


Before You're Found

by callsigntango



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, Rivals to Lovers, Slow Burn, aged up to mid-twenties because everyone's lost until then, and the boy who'd planned for everything but this, bending is still a thing tho, eyes of gold and a heart to match, it's probably better the less you know, it's the "now what" phase of life lmao, nothing graphic though, racing and stealing cars, some eventual hurt/comfort, there are descriptions of car crashes just a heads up!, this fic is essentially be gay do crimes, toph and zuko are best friends, we don’t talk about sokka's trauma enough, you don't have to know anything about cars to read this, your honor they're dumbasses in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26328559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callsigntango/pseuds/callsigntango
Summary: The Corvette’s tires screeched in protest as Zuko swung the back end of the car around to face their pursuer. He paused there, idling.“What the fuck are you doing?!” Sokka yelled, gripping the door and the console like his life depended on it.Zuko took a steadying breath and met Sokka’s eyes. “Do you trust me?”Sokka said nothing for a long moment, searching Zuko’s eyes. Zuko waited, oddly calm despite the speeding car heading right toward them. This was the only thing that felt like it mattered right now. This moment, right here, with Sokka – in the dark, with their lives on the line, the only thing that mattered was the fact that they were in this together.“Yes.”Or -- Zuko and Sokka's first date is stealing a car. It doesn't go as planned.
Relationships: Katara/Aang (background), Mai/Ty Lee (Background), Sokka & Suki (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Zuko & Toph
Comments: 35
Kudos: 173





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is also a shameless love letter to my Jeep Wrangler. And no, you don't have to know anything about cars to enjoy this. Comments are super appreciated!
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr: @withclawsandsympathy

**Part One: Renegade**

You’re supposed to wave. It’s a thing. An unspoken bond, a brotherhood between Jeeps. You see another Wrangler, and you wave – two fingers up, thumb out – and you nod knowingly. It’s a loose gesture, but a sacred tradition.

And Zuko was all about sacred traditions.

So when the boy in the old Ford Bronco lifted two fingers and a thumb, and nodded with a stupid, open-mouthed smirk at him, Zuko was furious. So furious, that before he knew what he was doing, he pulled the wheel hard to the left, tearing over the median in a reckless U-turn to chase after the boy in the Bronco.

The hideous, bright yellow Bronco. A Bronco of all things – the car that copied and stole from Jeep’s designs – and whose driver had the audacity to steal their wave, too. It was a rivalry he felt deep in his bones. He pulled up his lip a little in disgust. Who would ever pick that, and in that color.

It was nothing like Dual Dragon. Zuko’s Wrangler was a rich burgundy with tasteful gold accents – a pinstripe running down the side of the chassis, gold rims, and elegantly bold letters spelling Dual Dragon in script, curling around an intricate dragon along the hood. The whole look was topped off with deep gold hooded headlight caps that made the Jeep look downright mean.

Almost as mean as he tried to be while weaving through traffic. He narrowed his eyes – both in determination, and squinting because of that Spirits-awful yellow monstrosity he was trying to catch up to. He cut off a sedan and barely registered the blare of the horn as he closed in on the Bronco.

Zuko wasn’t sure what he’d planned to do when he caught up. Maybe flick him off, or yell an obscenity out the window. Toss a little fire beneath his wheels.

What he wasn’t planning on was for the Bronco to slam on the brakes at a yellow light just as Zuko was closing in. His eyes widened, and his heart felt like it stopped. The prickly heat of panic flared between his shoulders and down his arms. He slammed on the brakes and pleaded with the Spirits to stop in time.

What he really wasn’t planning on, was smacking right into the back of the Bronco.

Zuko groaned after the jolt of the impact. He peeled his fingers away from where they were tightly gripping the steering wheel, and realized the slight burning he smelled were singe-marks his hands left in the leather. Great. Zuko slid slowly out of Dual Dragon and looked up blinking.

“What the heck, man?!” The other boy was shouting. But he wasn’t looking at Zuko. He had his hands up to grip the sides of his head in exasperation, staring at the zero-millimeter gap between their two cars like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “You hit Boomie!”

“I – what?”

“You smashed right into his fender! It’s all bent now.” The boy threw his arms awkwardly around the back corner of his car in an odd sort of hug, cooing. “We’ll get you all fixed up, don’t worry.” Then, he turned suddenly on his heel and pointed right at Zuko. “You.” He stepped toward Zuko.

Zuko jerked his head up and leaned back slightly, daring a quick glance over his shoulder. It was stupid. He knew the boy was talking about him.

“Yes, you.” The boy stepped forward again and jammed his finger hard into Zuko’s chest. Zuko stared down at his hand, dumbfounded. “What were you doing?!”

“I, uh.” Zuko glanced up to meet the boy’s eyes. Deep, beautiful blue eyes. He trailed off, lost for a second. The finger in his chest pressed harder. Ow. He shook his head, snapping back to reality. The fire poured back into him as he remembered. “This was your fault,” he snapped, swatting the boy’s hand away. “You were asking for it.”

The boy threw out his hands. “For stopping? At a yellow light?”

“No, you idiot! For the wave.” Zuko almost hissed the last word, narrowing his eyes and stepping toward him menacingly.

Or, what he though was menacingly. But it must not have been because the boy doubled over in laughter. “The—wave—oh spirits,” he wheezed out between bouts of laughter. “I wasn’t waving at your car, man. I was waving at you.”

Zuko paused, his anger fizzling. “At me?”

“Yeah, dumbass. I thought you were cute,” he shrugged.

Zuko’s face immediately flushed bright red. His cheeks felt like they were on fire, and he had a half-formed thought that maybe they might be, though firebending didn’t quite work that way. He opened his mouth to say something but the boy spun on his heel and walked back to his car. He leaned into the front seat, reaching for the glove box. Zuko watched, mouth parted half-in confusion, half because Agni was this boy attractive and—

The boy turned around with a pen and a somewhat crumpled sticky note in his hand. He pulled the pen cap off with his teeth and held out the rest. “Here,” he said, muffled by the cap.

“For…?” Zuko tilted his head a little, reaching out for the pen.

He spat out the pen cap. “I need your number.” Zuko just stared, speechless. “So I can call my insurance.”

“Oh. Right,” Zuko looked again at the damage. It really wasn’t that bad. A fender bender, really. Dragon would be fine. So would the Bronco, though he found little solace in that. He reached absently for the pen while still looking at the cars and only jolted back to attention when his fingers brushed the boy’s hand, and he swore he felt a shock like the first twinge of lightning. “Sorry,” he mumbled, embarrassed. Zuko scratched out his name and number and handed it back.

“Zuko,” the boy said, reading the note. Zuko felt heat crawl up his neck at hearing his name come out of the boy’s mouth. A stupid, betraying heat. He was supposed to be mad at this guy, not swooning. He blamed the crash (the very super serious fender bender) for his reaction. He was just in shock. Yeah. That was it. He watched as the boy climbed back into the Bronco’s front seat. “Sokka,” he said, lifting his chin in a slight nod.

Then, Sokka’s mouth pulled into that stupid, deviously cute open-mouthed smirk. He winked, threw up his hand in that wave and peeled out, leaving Zuko standing alone in the street, fuming next to his dented Jeep.


	2. Chapter 2

“What did you do this time?”

Zuko had barely stepped out of Dragon when he heard Toph’s voice right behind him. She had a habit of sneaking up on him, and Zuko suspected she found a twisted sort of joy in unnerving him like that. She was the only person he knew who’d walk around barefoot in this field of metal scrap. Anyone else, and it was a guaranteed Tetanus shot.

She frowned, scrunching up her nose. “This visit isn’t just for new parts, is it? Something doesn’t sound right.” Toph strode up and put her hands on the side of Dragon’s chassis, slowly smoothing her palms along the doors, the fender flares, the bumper. Zuko watched quietly, chewing on the inside of his lip nervously.

He didn’t know how to tell her about his crash. It was stupid, aggressive driving that ended in … what? A crush? No—it wasn’t that. He wouldn’t entertain that thought. The twisted feeling in his gut was just him anticipating the call from his insurance company, that’s all. Not anything to do with the beautiful dark-skinned boy in the obnoxiously bright Bronco.

Zuko sighed and leaned back against whatever car Toph was in the middle of repairing. A sleek-looking classic Chevelle. She had a knack for fixing up cars – could just feel whatever wasn’t running right, and being the only metalbender anyone knew of sure made repairs a breeze. It was a good enough gig that she made enough to get by with her repair shop, though was less of a shop and more of a salvage yard in a field. But looks didn’t matter to her. Not to mention, her side hustle didn’t hurt, either.

“Ah, HA,” Toph exclaimed when her hands brushed along the front bumper, dipping into the mangled dents left behind from the crash. “Alright, Sparky, what’d you hit. You didn’t hit and run, did you?”

“What? No!” Zuko snapped, a little too defensively.

“Hm. Disappointing.” She dragged her right hand further down the bumper and gripped hard, setting her feet, and yanking the dent back out with a loud _pop_! “I hope your dad doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t,” Zuko gritted his teeth. He was really glad Sokka hadn’t insisted on calling the cops. The last thing he’d want is for word to get back to his dad, or worse, for his dad to be the one to respond to the scene. They hadn’t talked in years – not since Ozai had kicked him out – but it’d be just his luck for Ozai to show up with wannabe-cop Azula in tow.

“Good. No offense – all cops are bastards, but _especially_ your dad.”

Zuko huffed a small laugh in agreement. “None taken.”

He pulled out his phone for the 100th time today. No notifications. He unlocked it just to be sure. Still nothing. He sighed. It’d been a week since the crash, and he hadn’t heard anything from Sokka. He told himself he should be relieved – maybe Sokka had decided it wasn’t worth reporting the accident. But instead, it felt oddly like disappointment.

Toph suddenly punched him in the arm. “Who are you pining over, lover boy?” she teased.

“No one, I—” he stammered out before Toph interrupted him with a laugh.

“Don’t care,” she said, crossing her arms. “Let’s talk payment.”

Zuko groaned. “I’m all tapped out. Can’t this just be a favor between friends?”

He was certain she would’ve glared at him if she knew how. It didn’t matter—he could hear the sternness loud and clear in her voice alone. “No.”

Her stern look turned into a grin. “Sounds to me like you’ll have to earn it.”

///

This wasn’t the first time Toph had put him to work. Zuko made sure to show up to the salvage yard early, giving him time to stash Dragon in an old shed out back. He covered up the Jeep carefully, making sure it was well hidden. He affectionately patted the spare tire through the tarp before sealing up the shed. He had just snapped the padlock shut when he saw someone standing just in his peripheral.

Zuko nearly leapt out of his skin. “Spirits, Toph. You’ve got to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” She grinned. “C’mon. The other racers will arrive soon. You’ve got to gear up.”

Zuko followed her quietly to the far edge of her property line. Just behind the trees was a large clearing dusted with moss and pine needles. Toph stopped and sunk into a low, powerful stance, raising her arms up. Then, with a slight shift of her right foot, and a sudden drop of her fists, a gaping hole opened up in the earth before him. Zuko clapped a hand on her shoulder in acknowledgment as he passed her and slid down into the darkness.

“Meet me at the track!” She shouted after him.

She didn’t wait for him to answer.

Zuko landed with a soft thud on the concrete buried deep below the earth. He swiped his thumb sharply against his first two fingers like a match, and lit a small flame that struggled against the pitch dark.

But Zuko knew this room well. He dragged his other hand along the wall, feeling his way around to the oil lamps mounted along it and lighting them as he went.

There wasn’t much inside. Some metal shelves with canned food, a radio, toolboxes, a cot. He’d spent a lot of nights in this little bunker. For a while, he only felt safe alone, hidden away where no one could find him. It was the only place he didn’t get nightmares. It was a completely different world, but one that felt like home.

But perched right there in the middle was his true escape.

Right there, was Blue Spirit.

She was a sleek, matte black Jeep Wrangler Rubicon with polished chrome accents. Her headlights were bright ocean blue LEDs, and matching blue rock lights illuminated the wheel wells and the ground below. The words “Blue Spirit” were carefully scrawled in white calligraphy along the edge of the hood, the last line trailing off into a pinstripe that faded along the body. On the back, by the spare tire, was a custom decal of two crossed swords. Two halves of the same weapon.

Two halves of the same person.

“Hey, Blue.” Zuko said softly, running his hands along the fender flare. He ran through his race prep, checking the shocks, the tire tread, the radiator. Everything looked good. He carefully removed the Jeep’s roof panels and hard top and set them against the wall. It was easier to grab the flags this way, with no roof. Just the roll cage to protect him. He opened the back and pulled up the hidden lid to the storage space beneath the floor and pulled out his suit and helmet.

When he changed into his gear, he and Blue became one. The black racing jumpsuit had deep blue stripes along the shoulders and again from his hips leading down the side of his legs to his ankles. On the left side of his chest, there was white embroidery in the shape of two crossed swords, matching the decal on the back of the Jeep. He shimmied his hands into his leather gloves, stepping around to the front of Blue for his ritual.

It may be a little superstitious, but he felt he raced his best when he did it. He faced the car and stood tall, rolling his shoulders back and dropping his fists to the divots of his hips. He took a breath here in a moment of focus and peace before lowering his head and bringing his hands up into a traditional Fire Nation bow.

Then, he shoved on his helmet and flicked down the mirrored blue visor, shutting his identity away from the world.

Zuko slid into the drivers seat and turned the key. Blue roared into life and together, they climbed out into the setting sun.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic will sometimes switch to Sokka's POV! Starting now.  
> He's always got a plan.

_Sokka_

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Katara asked, eyeing the other cars suspiciously. “Your last attempt at racing didn’t exactly go well.”

“That’s because I was trying to street race in your stupid minivan,” Sokka scoffed. He stooped to swipe up some mud to splatter on the sides of Boomerang. There, now he didn’t look so much like a newbie. “This is different.”

“The Painted Lady is _not_ stupid. You just don’t know how to treat her right!” Katara shot back, her hands resting sternly on her hips. “She’s won plenty of races with me behind the wheel.”

Katara was right. She was downright deadly in the driver’s seat of Painted Lady. She’d done several subtle modifications to make it fast, mean, and a terror to face off against. It also didn’t hurt that Katara had a nasty habit of bending the coolant inside your car. One of the biggest advantages they had, though, was people underestimating them. But that was street racing – much more structured and bound to the confines of the pavement.

This _was_ different. This had no rules, no boundaries, no structure. This was a wild course that mixed street racing, with off-roading, with destruction and property damage. The first one to make it to the checkpoints, grab the flags, and make it across the finish line in one piece, won.

This was the real test of a driver. This was also very, very illegal.

“I for one know you’re ready,” Suki said, stepping forward and throwing an arm around Sokka’s neck. “We’ve been practicing. Take ‘em for a ride!” She kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair.

“Hey, watch the wolf tail!” he laughed, feigning annoyance and smoothing his hair back down. He flicked some of the mud off his fingers in Suki’s direction and she shrieked playfully and kicked way more mud right back.

An odd feeling suddenly spread along the back of Sokka’s neck, like he was being watched. He straightened and turned. There was no one he could see, except a tall, dark figure in a black motorcycle helmet that was maybe facing his direction? He couldn’t tell. The mirrored blue visor made it so he couldn’t see their face. But man, that guy looked professional. A bit of nervousness coiled in his gut.

“You okay?” Aang asked, jumping down from the ledge he’d earthbent his car up onto. Sokka was surprised he’d even brought the dang thing. But he wasn’t surprised he was so protective over it – it was vintage, after all. A glossy white 1967 Volkswagon Type 3 Fastback with light blue racing stripes along the roof and hood, and arrows along the sides. He said he’d earthbent it up on the platform so he, Katara and Suki could watch the race better, but Sokka knew he was also worried about it getting hit.

“Yeah,” Sokka said, shaking his head. “I’m ready. I have a plan. I’ve researched the drivers, well, most of them anyway. And I’ve mapped out the course right here, see?” He pulled out a rolled up sheet of poster paper that had lots of smudged lines haphazardly scrawled across it.

“That’s a map?” Katara said, leaning in and squinting at it. “Why are there so many cows?”

“Those are cars!” Sokka shouted.

“Why do they have spots?”

“They’re _windows_!” His shout had turned into more of a whine. “Forget it. I’m ready.”

He turned to scan the lineup of racers. He’d watched dozens of races, studying up on their styles and tactics. There was Jet, who was chewing a long stalk of wheatgrass and leaning up against his camouflage Ford pickup, nicknamed Freedom Fighter. He was one to watch out for. Sokka had seen other drivers in Fords block for him—he figured they often worked in a team, and often played dirty.

There was Haru, a tough-looking sort of guy (with questionable facial hair) who seemed like he may have done some time in prison. He brought a Honda Fit today – a different car than last time. He tended to switch them up. Haru played it off like a strategy, but Sokka guessed he blamed the car for losing, and not his own driving. Sokka didn’t worry too much about his skill behind the wheel, but Haru was a talented earthbender, and that was dangerous in a tight spot on the course.

Teo had a sporty Mazda coupe modified into a completely hand-controlled rally car – and man could that thing really fly. Teo was an expert at drifting, and could corner turns like nobody’s business. But Sokka knew Teo’s weakness—he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He was more focused on learning from the other drivers and having fun, than winning.

Then there was On Ji, a fiery girl who favored speed over accuracy. She was chatting with Ty Lee, a bubbly, unassuming girl who’d had flowers painted on her car’s bumper. Sokka had raced against her once before, and it was the shortest race of his life. She knew exactly which part of your car to hit to spin you out and knock you out of the race. She, like Katara, was underestimated – and that was dangerous.

He realized he was staring at her only when a tall, dark-haired girl stepped up to Ty Lee, slung her arm possessively around her waist and glared daggers right at Sokka. Ty lee yelped, “Mai!” and enthusiastically spun and kissed her. Sokka flushed red and turned away.

He scanned through the rest of the crowd, about 12 other racers in total, before his eyes rested on the one that really made him nervous. The Unknown Driver. The one everyone just called by the name scripted along the hood of his Jeep.

“Blue Spirit,” Sokka breathed. He didn’t recognize him until he saw that car. The guy was elusive, and nearly undefeated. No one knew who he was under the helmet, and he rarely showed up to races anymore. But when he did, he won.

“Why’s that guy staring at you?” Aang said, toeing through the mud to stand next to Sokka.

Huh. _I guess he_ was _staring, wasn’t he_. Sokka squinted and tilted his head a little. There was something oddly familiar about the way Blue Spirit was standing there, hovering next to that Jeep. “I don’t know. Checking out the new competition, I guess.” He shook his head and smacked Boomerang’s hood. “C’mon, it’s almost race time!”

Aang dragged Sokka into a group hug with Katara and Suki. “Wait, one last thing!” Suki said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small compact. She ran her finger through the black makeup inside and swiped eye-black along his cheeks. “There,” she said, smiling, and kissed him one last time on the forehead for good luck before Aang earthbent them up to perch on the platform next to his car.

Sokka turned away, reaching for his helmet. He closed his eyes and took a breath to steady himself. He still felt like he was being watched. Sokka cracked open one of his eyes and sure enough, Blue Spirit was facing him. The guy behind the visor seemed to realize Sokka had noticed, and spun around in a sort of awkward, panicky way. In a way that vaguely tugged at Sokka’s memory.

“Who’s ready to _RUMBLE_!” an overly excited voice shouted from one of the ledges near the clearing. A monstrous-looking rusty Chevy Tahoe riddled with dents, and with tires about as tall as he was, sat idling at the top. The truck revved, and the trees shook. Everyone turned to look up at her.

“The rules are simple!” The girl in the monster truck shouted, standing up through the sunroof. He recognized her immediately. Toph, call sign: Blind Bandit. She’d invented this off-road race after one too many close calls while street racing. It wasn’t exactly the best sport for someone who couldn’t see on pavement. She only stopped racing when she realized there was more money in running a gambling ring, anyway.

“There are three flags, each worth 50 points. Those are marked at the three checkpoints on the course. There’s a hidden fourth flag somewhere just outside the bounds. That flag, is worth 100 points. Whoever crosses the finish line in one piece, with the most points, wins!” She yelled, laying on the horn for emphasis.

Sokka had a plan. Most racers didn’t bother searching for the hidden flag – you could very well win by just getting to the marked checkpoints first, and grabbing all three flags without wasting any time. But there was an advantage to finding the hidden flag. You would only need two flags to win. His plan was simple. Sokka knew one racer who _always_ went for the hidden flag.

Sokka’s plan was to follow that driver.

Sokka’s plan was to take Blue Spirit head on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the way Toph can "see" while driving is drawn from some of my own experiences with learning to race. My instructor had me sit, idling in the car, with my eyes closed. He told me to wait, and to listen. Driving is a two-way conversation. Yes, you tell the car what you want it to do via the steering wheel and the pedals and more. But the car is your connection to the road, and you have to listen to it, too. You learn to listen to what each different noise in the engine means, and you can hear and feel each tire to tell what's around you and how to pull out of a skid. Toph just does this on steroids -- but it doesn't work too well for her on smooth pavement. I feel like when she DOES race, its only on the dirt tracks, and she walks the tracks first to memorize them. She can't see all the cars around her, but also doesn't care -- and her massive lifted car will just go over them anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sokka_

The leather-wrapped steering wheel felt natural under his hands, like it was made for him. It should – he built Boomerang from the ground up after his dad had found it rusting and abandoned in the woods. It was their project together until Hakoda was called up to active duty. Sokka had been working on the Bronco alone ever since. He wondered vaguely how his dad would react when he saw he’d painted it as yellow as the sun.

The racers were lining up at the start just as the sun started to edge down behind the trees. Sokka rolled down the line, hanging his foot out where he’d taken the driver’s door off the car, looking to get a good spot. He steered clear of Ty Lee, who’d taken the position right in the middle of the line. _There_ , he thought. _That’s it_.

A spot was open one car away from Blue Spirit, who had taken a position on the far left wing. Sokka nosed Boomerang in so just one car was in between him and Blue Spirit. The driver in the Jeep stared straight ahead while the one in the camo pickup truck taunted him.

Jet leaned out of Freedom Fighter’s window and spat at Blue Spirit’s tires. But Blue Spirit didn’t even flinch. Just stared straight ahead like he was the only one out here.

Jet didn’t take the hint. He revved his engine, cranked his radio up and down, yelled at the driver. “Your Jeep looks good topless,” he shouted. “Bet you would too!” The whole thing really got under Sokka’s skin.

“Would you knock it off already?” he blurted. _That_ got Blue Spirit’s attention. The driver of the Jeep snatched a quick glance before turning back to the tree line. Jet on the other hand, didn’t quit so easily.

“You got a problem, ponytail?” Jet sneered, opening his driver’s door and standing up to look down on Sokka.

Sokka stood too, which was easier since the Bronco didn’t have doors. “As a matter of fact—“

A blaze of fire suddenly shot through the air just past their heads. Sokka winced at the heat of it, just barely avoiding getting singed. He blinked through the waves of heat the fire left in his vision and caught a glimpse of Blue Spirit standing on the seat of his roofless Jeep with his right arm outstretched in a fist. His glove was smoldering. _I guess he’s a firebender. Huh._ Sokka had never considered that.

Jet’s casual taunting had turned into a quiet rage. He settled wordlessly back into Freedom Fighter and slammed the door. Sokka melted back into his seat, shrinking down just a bit. _Way to go, Sokka_ , he scolded himself. _Way to make enemies before the race even begins._

He didn’t have long to stew in his awkward outburst. The floodlights suddenly snapped on, and the sound of engines starting rumbled louder as everyone revved their cars. Sokka pressed lightly on the gas and Boomerang let out a low growl, edging forward.

A single gunshot cut through the air, and the racers surged forward like the tide.

Freedom Fighter peeled out first, cutting the wheel hard as he passed Sokka, swinging the truck’s back end around to clip Boomerang’s front bumper. “ _Fuck_ ,” Sokka shouted, before quickly swallowing his anger. He had more important things to focus on. Sokka glanced left as he accelerated toward the trees, keeping pace with Blue Spirit. The black Jeep’s tires sprayed mud behind it as it tore across the clearing.

Teo’s Mazda hit the tree line first and he vanished into the darkness, his fading taillights the only hint there was anything there. On Ji and Ty Lee were close behind. Sokka gripped the wheel, then shifted and sped after the pack. He made sure to keep Blue Spirit in his sights, though the Jeep was holding back a bit.

Sokka hurdled into the trees, doing his best to stay on the dirt path and avoid the low branches in the dark. Blue Spirit roared past him, and nearly sideswiped Jet’s truck before pulling out of reach. Sokka pressed harder on the gas, desperate to keep track of him. But as he closed in on Freedom Fighter, the two Fords behind him suddenly appeared next to him. They were trying to box him in.

He bared his teeth a little and cursed. He knew they’d be working together with Jet. Sokka accelerated more as the two Fords pressed closer, one of them bumping Boomerang’s passenger side. Suddenly, the Ford on his left jerked away, and then cut hard back toward him. Sokka’s eyes widened and he felt panic spike into his palms. He tore his foot off the gas and yanked on his emergency brake. Boomerang immediately locked up, flinging Sokka forward, his chin smacking hard against the wheel. His car fell back, too quickly for the Fords to adjust. The two trucks collided with each other instead, the one that had tried to take out Sokka slamming into its buddy and sending the pair into a tree.

Sokka let out a loud _whoop_ and slammed on the gas once more. Boomerang lurched forward and he patted the car’s dash apologetically as he passed the smoldering mess. “That’s what you get!” he shouted. The adrenaline made the conflicting emotions of panic and relief feel like a manic sort of joy.

Boomerang wasn’t fast enough at accelerating to make up for the lost time he’d spent in a full stop. But Sokka knew this course like the back of his hand. He’d studied it for weeks. He could drive it with his eyes closed. He’d have to make up in distance what he couldn’t make up in time. He threw the wheel to the left, and Boomerang bounced over the edge of the course and into the underbrush.

He sliced a line through the trees, weaving where he had to, but managing to more or less find a straight shot through the forest. That was one of the things street racing had taught him – how to find a line. It wasn’t long before he could hear the rumble of the other cars again, and he jammed the pedal to the floor.

Boomerang sprang forward with a roar, the branches flinging by Sokka’s head in a blur. He hit the edge of the path hard, the Bronco catching air as he flew back into the pack of racers right toward Haru’s Honda. The earthbender swerved, throwing up a rim of earth on the edge of the path to give him room to escape. The second his wheels hit the ground, Sokka pulled hard on the emergency brake and cut the wheel, drifting in a spray of mud to spin around forward. He gunned it and glanced around for Blue Spirit. _Where did he—_

Blue LED lights flooded his rearview. His gaze snapped up.

Blue Spirit was right behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the race begins!  
> We'll flip back to Zuko's POV soon.


	5. Chapter 5

_Zuko_

Zuko narrowed his eyes. What was _he_ doing here, anyway. He thought he’d lost Sokka back near the starting line, but here this guy was, coming back again and again. He couldn’t shake him.

He decided to keep the bright yellow Bronco in his sights – it wouldn’t be too hard, after all. It was hard to miss. He crept forward a little more, nudging the Bronco’s bumper and pushing him dangerously close to Teo’s Mazda. Zuko’d been surprised, and a little impressed, at the way Sokka had come flying out of the forest into an expert drift in front of him. He wanted to see what else this guy could do.

Part of him worried that Sokka would brake-check him – the fear made his heart thrum louder in his chest and tightened his shoulders. But he gambled on the thought that Sokka wouldn’t do something that stupid and take them both out of the race for pride. Not like Jet.

Freedom Fighter tore past them in a spray of mud as they approached the first checkpoint. It was just Jet, Ty Lee, Teo and Sokka in front of him now. Haru had fallen back after Sokka burst onto the track, and Ty Lee had knocked On Ji out of the race just before that with a well-placed smack to the corner of her bumper that spun her into a tree.

The trees started to thin as they approached the first checkpoint, which was just off of Toph’s property and into the neighborhood past the forest. This is where the race started to get dangerous. This is where it started to get illegal.

Zuko gunned it, pushing Blue Spirit near her limit off road like this. He pulled up between Sokka’s yellow monstrosity and Jet’s somehow-worse camouflage pickup truck. He glanced over at Sokka, who was biting his lip in focus as he kept pace with Zuko. He let his eyes trail down Sokka’s arms and—

He almost saw the fence too late.

That had never been there before. A huge wooden fence rose out of the dark like a fin, right in front of them. Teo was in front of all of them, and slammed right into it. The hood of his Mazda folded in like paper and the fence splintered with a sickening crack as he burst through it. Ty Lee was hot on his heels, squeezing through the hole of the fence Teo’d left behind and hurtling through it relatively unscathed.

Zuko had only a second to react. He smashed the cruise control button, leapt onto the seat and, keeping one foot on the wheel to stay straight, punched a burst of fire right at the fence. The intense flames incinerated the fence almost on contact. The wood falling away to ash as he dropped down into the seat and took control back from Spirit’s cruise lock. He, Jet and Sokka raced through the charred hole left behind.

He glanced back, hoping Teo was okay. He saw the kid bail out of the Mazda, using the eject mechanism installed to shoot the driver’s seat, which was part of his wheelchair, back away from the car and he sped off into the night before the cops could show up.

Zuko breathed some relief and refocused on the race. The four racers tore across the yard once protected by the fence, kicking dirt and rocks at the houses there. Sokka crashed through a garden, sending what looked like cabbages flying. Zuko thought he saw Jet take out a mailbox as he skidded onto the pavement. He refocused once he felt pavement beneath all four tires, and could see the first flag ahead, tied to the light pole by the neighborhood sign.

Ty Lee was leaning out the window, arm outstretched, ready to snatch it off the post when Sokka shot forward. But he was too late – Ty Lee had grabbed the flag, drifting around the pole and using the momentum to slingshot forward out of the turn. Jet roared off after her in hot pursuit down the main road, his tires leaving thick, black burns on the pavement.

But Sokka didn’t turn. Zuko realized he wasn’t shooting forward to grab _that_ flag. He was taking a shortcut – a _dangerous_ shortcut – across a busy, six-lane highway toward the next checkpoint. And Zuko, recklessly, pursued him.

They sped across the highway, Zuko gripping the steering wheel so tight he thought it was going to melt between his fingers. Spirit’s nose was inches from the Bronco’s bumper, in an oddly protective sort of way. Deep down, Zuko knew this was more of an “I’m not gonna let this dumbass die alone” and less of an aggressive race tactic, but he told himself it was the latter.

A cacophony of horns blaring accompanied them across the highway, up over the median, and into the grocery store parking lot across the street. He couldn’t believe they’d made it unscathed. They zipped around the building and onto the street behind it, where the second flag came into view. The Bronco increased the gap between them, Sokka leaning out and snagging the flag with ease.

Zuko needed to catch up to the Bronco, which had a speed advantage on the pavement. But that would change when they hit the dirt again, and that was coming up soon. The road would dead-end into gravel, and they’d be back in Blue Spirit’s element. They wound through the road, the lower Bronco taking the turns much better than Spirit could, gaining ground on them. But he could see the dead end coming up now.

It was just him and Sokka now. They had shaved several minutes off the race by diving across the highway like that, a reckless move even Jet wouldn’t have risked without his cronies to back him up. By the time Ty Lee and Jet made it to the second checkpoint, they’d be at the third.

The thick mud slowed the Bronco just enough for Zuko to catch back up. The third flag was dangling from a tree branch just ahead. Zuko slid to the left of the Bronco, and flicked his highbeams on right in Sokka’s mirror to throw him off. He pressed Spirit’s pedal all the way to the floor, leaned out the side and punched a stream of fire behind him to rocket forward. Zuko snatched the third flag off the branch to tie Sokka’s score.

There was only one way for either of them to win now.

The bonus flag.


	6. Chapter 6

_Sokka_

Sokka lifted his foot off the gas just a little as Blue Spirit shot past him to snatch the third flag. Good. He hadn’t planned on getting that one anyway – he wouldn’t be able to win without the 100-point flag if the other driver got that one. It would’ve been a tie.

He needed Blue Spirit to think he was still in this race. To think he still had a chance to beat Sokka. His slowdown right before the third flag was calculated, and helped along by the Jeep’s prowess over his car in the dirt.

He let Blue Spirit take the lead, falling in to follow hot on his heels. Suddenly, the Jeep veered right off the path, and Sokka tailed him with such fluidity, it was like the cars were linked together by an invisible wire. This was where Blue Spirit had the advantage – this was off-course, and Sokka was flying blind. He had to trust that this guy knew what he was doing.

The bonus flag was less hidden, and more inconveniently placed. The drivers got a rough location right before they lined up for the race, to stop people from finding it ahead of time. It was always near the end and off the track, so the stakes were higher.

The Jeep whipped through the trees and Sokka gripped the wheel hard, keeping his eyes glued on the bumper of the car in front of him to try and anticipate the movements. The Jeep was taller than Boomerang, and every so often a tree branch would snap back and thwack against his windshield. He flinched. Those would definitely leave a mark.

Suddenly, the forest fell away, the blur of trees dropping off into a brighter clearing. Sokka saw they were back on Toph’s property, just on the other side. The main building of the salvage yard was up ahead – he knew the finish line was on the other side of the structure. And that’s when he saw it: the final flag hanging from a pole in the middle of the field.

Sokka banked right, taking a move out of Ty Lee’s playbook. He floored it, smacking Blue Spirit’s bumper right in the corner. The Jeep’s driver shouted in surprise, spinning away as Boomerang pushed past and raced forward toward the flag. He reached out for it – it was so, so close—

He saw Blue Spirit’s spare tire first. Then the back fender, and then the doors. The Jeep was racing _backward_ toward the flag. The unknown driver had thrown it in reverse instead of wasting time controlling the tailspin. It’s a wild, reckless, absolutely _insane_ sort of move.

Whoever this driver was, Sokka was pretty sure he was in love.

The flag was fast approaching. They both reached out, fingertips brushing each other’s for a brief moment. He swore it felt a little like lightning crackling between them. Sokka could feel heat and adrenaline course up his arm and time seemed to slow. They snatched the flag almost simultaneously – but Sokka was just a little bit faster. He had the advantage of not having to be turned around in his seat for the grab.

Sokka pulled the flag into the cabin and yelped with triumph. He glanced back up – and was it just him, or was the salvage yard building getting really close, _really fast_. “Oh, SHIT!” He realized the Jeep couldn’t turn – Blue Spirit was still racing backward, too close to him to be able to maneuver out of the dangerous sprint in reverse, and jamming on the brakes threatened to send the Jeep into a devastating roll.

And the Jeep was heading straight for a sleek Chevelle parked in the lot.

Sokka could’ve braked. Could’ve veered off. Could’ve left Blue Spirit to violently crash so he could win the race.

He could’ve done a million other things.

But instead, he swerved into Blue Spirit, pressing Boomerang’s body up against the other car and shoving the Jeep out of the way. Boomerang hit the Chevelle with a sickening crunch. For the second time that night, Sokka’s face smacked against the steering wheel. For the first time that night, he tasted blood. Boomerang skidded sideways, screeching to a stop just before hitting the building.

Everything was a blur. Where the lights were didn’t make sense to him – the world looked muddy and light pooled in his vision in spots it shouldn’t have. He fumbled for the seat belt buckle with a groan. His fingers frantically scrambled for purchase, but he couldn’t find it. He felt panic bubble up in his throat and he gasped for air.

“Sokka? Sokka, hey. It’s okay,” he heard a voice right next to him. He tried to look up, but his head lolled over and back instead. A gloved hand cupped his face, thumbing the blood coming from his forehead away from his eyes.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” the voice repeated. Whoever it was leaned across him, undoing the seatbelt. He felt arms wind around his shoulders and under his knees.

“Mmnh,” Sokka tried to ask as the person lifted him up and out of Boomerang’s crushed cabin. He squinted at his rescuer – a boy in a black jumpsuit with shaggy hair and a scar over his left eye that looked stupidly familiar. “Zu—?”

That was the last thing Sokka remembered before the world tipped to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That marks the end of part one! Hope ya'll are liking it so far. Part Two is the car-stealing chapter, don't worry.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang may give good advice, but his choice in smoothie is questionable

**Part Two: Compass**

_ Zuko _

There was something buzzing around his head. Something awfully loud, and awfully annoying. Zuko swatted around blindly in the air, refusing to open his eyes. He was determined to cling to sleep for as long as humanly possible.

“Zuko,” a voice mumbled softly from nearby. “Your phone won’t shut up.”

He shot up, eyes snapping open. Reality came rushing back – the bright fluorescent lights, the white and pale green sheets and wallpaper, the depressingly sterile scent that stung his nose. _Hospital._ He stretched his neck, instantly regretting the way he’d folded himself into the chair.

He checked his phone. Six missed calls from Toph. Ugh.

Zuko scrubbed his hands over his face to try and wake back up fully. “Sorry,” he said to the boy in the hospital bed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sokka said, with a weak smile. His expression turned into a wince. “How long was I out?”

Zuko checked his phone. “Not long. A few hours, maybe. You hit your head pretty hard.”

“I guess that’s why you wear a helmet, huh?” he tried to laugh, but Zuko could tell it hurt. Sokka reached up to gingerly touch the bandage above his eye.

“Five stitches. Try not to touch it.”

Sokka’s arm fell back down to bed with a soft thud. “That’s gonna leave a scar.” Realization crossed his face and he suddenly, nervously backtracked. “Not that that’s a bad thing! I like scars. Very cool. Scars are—“

“It’s fine,” Zuko said, looking down at his hands. He’d had his for about a decade now – it was just as much a part of him as anything else. Sokka had no way of knowing that, though.

Sokka was quiet for a moment. “How’s Boomerang?”

Zuko shrugged. “Honestly, not that bad. The Chevelle though…” He trailed off and held up a hand, tilting it side to side. “It’s seen better days. Toph is working on fixing your Bronco up for you now. She’s not happy about it though. You’ll owe her for that, and the Chevelle.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the bed.

Sokka sighed. “It’s okay. I needed to take it into the shop anyway. Had a nasty dent in the back bumper from a Jeep riding a little too close to my ass.”

Zuko cheeks burned and he felt blush creep up his neck.

“It’s fine!” Sokka laughed. “I guess we’re even now.”

A small, betraying smile crept onto Zuko’s face.

“Did you, uh. Get me flowers?” Sokka asked, nodding toward the little vase on the side corner. A handful of pink and red lilies were bunched together in the small container.

“Oh. Yeah, sorry I…” Zuko rubbed the back of his neck as the nervousness rose up like a wave in his chest. “The gift shop was all out and these were the only ones I could find outside and—I’m sorry, I’ll get rid of them.”

“You… picked me flowers?” Sokka murmured. Zuko couldn’t quite name the expression on Sokka’s face. No one had ever looked at him like that before, wide-eyed and soft. He must’ve done something wrong.

Zuko leaned over to grab the vase. How could he be so stupid. Flowers? This guy was just in a car wreck, the second one with him, why the fuck would he want _flowers_ of all things. _I should’ve left before he woke up, I should never have stayed, I—_

His thoughts were interrupted by a hand closing around his forearm.

“Thank you,” Sokka said. His expression was gentle, and grateful, and warm. Zuko registered the sincerity on a delay, but felt some of his anxiety start melt down out of his shoulders. “Thank you for being here so I didn’t wake up alone.”

Sokka’s hand was still on his arm. Their eyes were locked together, blue on gold. Zuko felt like he could stay here, paused in the depths of this boy’s eyes, for forever. Sokka’s eyes flicked down to Zuko’s mouth so fast, he wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t so entranced to begin with. Sokka bit his lip in the same, nervously focused way he had behind the wheel during the race and Zuko felt the same thrill he had hurtling beside the Bronco into the dark – the same spark from when they both reached for the flag. It was like an invisible force was pushing them closer. He leaned in, caught up in the moment.

“Sokka!” A girl shouted, bursting into the room. Sokka quickly snatched his hand away and Zuko leapt to his feet, anxiously glancing down at his feet. The girl peppered Sokka with questions faster than he could answer. “We got here as fast as we could. The girl that runs the race wouldn’t let us go without some sort of promise we’d pay her for the damages, so Aang had to leave his car.” She flitted around the bed. “Are you okay? What’s this bandage? Do you have a concussion?”

“Katara.” She kept fussing over him. “Katara, I’m fine,” Sokka grumbled at her. “Hey,” he said, gesturing to Zuko. “This is Zuko. He brought me here.”

Katara narrowed her eyes fiercely at Zuko. “Thank you,” she said stiffly, baring a little more of her teeth than Zuko felt was necessary. It was the sheer opposite of the thank you he’d just heard from Sokka. There was no gratitude in her voice.

“I’m uh. I have a phone call,” Zuko said awkwardly, standing up and jabbing at his blank phone screen. “I have to take this.”

“It’s not even ring—“ Sokka started to say. But Zuko was already halfway out the door.

It wasn’t a total lie, he told himself. He had to call Toph anyway.

“You owe me,” were the first words she said to him. She’d picked up on the first ring. Zuko flinched.

“I know. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“You’ll have to make it up to Piandao. That was _his_ Chevelle you and your little boyfriend destroyed.”

“He’s _not_ my—“ Zuko trailed off with an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll pay you back for the repairs. Just give me some time.”

“Oh, I already have an idea,” she said. “And you’re not gonna like it. When your little sidepiece is all healed up, come over and we’ll discuss the details. He owes me too.”

“I told you, he’s not my—“

 _Click._ Toph ended the call and the line went dead. Zuko growled and punched the air in a fit of frustration, and felt the hint of fire whisper around his fist. The fight drained out of him faster than the frustration did. He slumped against the wall, and slid down to sit on the floor. He heaved a sigh and leaned his head back with a _thud_.

How in the Spirits’ names did he end up here.

“Do you want some tea?”

Zuko lifted his head to where a boy with arrow tattoos was holding out a cup. Steam was curling out of the lid, and he could smell hints of jasmine there.

“I brought it for Katara, but I don’t think she needs any more caffeine,” he said, sheepishly.

Zuko took the cup. “Thanks.” He sipped at it quietly, returning his gaze to the floor.

“I’m Aang,” the boy said, clearly taking Zuko’s silence as an invitation to sit down and make friends. Zuko didn’t have the energy to tell him off. He’d been up most of the night anyway, and the rollercoaster ride from adrenaline to worry to … whatever _that_ was that just happened by that hospital bed was a rough one.

“Zuko.”

Aang nodded knowingly. “The Blue Spirit.”

“What? How do you—“

“We were up on a ledge, and saw you take your helmet off when you pulled Sokka out of the wreck,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his smoothie. When Zuko didn’t say anything, Aang glanced his way and saw the slight panic etched across his face. “Oh! It was just us up there. No one else saw you, it’s okay. I promise.”

Zuko tried to relax a little. He didn’t even know these people. Didn’t know that he could trust them. He barely even knew Sokka, but the guy sacrificed his car, and his big win, just to save Zuko from a devastating crash. Zuko was pretty sure it was the most selfless thing anyone had ever done for him. He trusted Sokka, so maybe he could trust these two. Aang seemed genuine, painfully so.

“Why the secret identity, anyway?” Aang shook his smoothie, peering down the straw to see how much was left. Zuko wrinkled his nose a little – it smelled like banana, but also oddly like onions.

Zuko didn’t want to get into the whole, ‘racing was illegal and his dad was a cop who’d kicked him out of the family a long time ago, and his sister would do anything to haul his ass to jail to impress their father’ thing. So he just looked down at the mug of tea in his hands and settled on telling a part of the truth. “I just wanted to race. I didn’t want the attention, or the fanfare. I just wanted a place to be me without anyone judging me for who that was.”

“You know,” Aang said, using a gust of air to sweep up a coin that had been dropped on the other side of the hallway, dusty and forgotten. “I had a friend a long time ago who would pretend to be someone else when he traveled. He would put on a different act in every new place, with clothes he would never wear at home and a name that wasn’t his to take.”

Zuko watched as Aang spun the coin between his hands, bending a thin breeze to wind the coin between his fingers. It seemed like an absent-minded trick, but it felt more significant.

“I asked him why he would take on a whole different persona like that, and his answer was similar to yours. He wanted the freedom to be who he was without being judged. But the thing is,” the coin suddenly stopped spinning, dropping into Aang’s palm. All the dust had been shaken loose, and it was shiny again. “I don’t think he even knew who he was. But he figured it out along the way.”

Aang offered the coin to Zuko, smiling. “It’s okay to feel lost. I think sometimes, you have to get lost, before you’re found.”

If it were any other night, in any other hallway, Zuko would’ve snarled a retort and walked away. But deep down, he knew the anger he felt broiling in the back of his throat was just a defense mechanism; he knew there was truth to what Aang had said.

Zuko had spent the past several months drifting around, trying to find his purpose. It’s what had drawn him to racing, and laid the foundation for his friendship with Toph.

Toph had felt ostracized by her family too, and she’d taken him in. Two wayward souls drawn together by a similar emptiness, but Toph had always known who she was. It was Zuko who was lost. He just hadn’t realized how lost he was until… until now.

Zuko took the coin and cradled it in his hands for a moment before tucking it away in his pocket.

“Anyway, I should check in on him. And you should get some rest,” Aang sprang to his feet with a whoosh of air, as though he were as weightless as the breeze. He smiled down at Zuko. “Sokka’s lucky to have a friend like you. I hope we can be friends too.” He pushed through the door of Sokka’s room, and though Zuko was alone in the hallway, he felt the least isolated he had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your honor they're just two dumbasses in love


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buckle up -- it's car-stealing time

_Zuko_

When Zuko pulled into Toph’s salvage yard a week after the crash, he felt anxiety thrum through every nerve in his body. He had screwed up her race, lost her money, and destroyed an important client’s car with his recklessness. He fully expected her to kick him out and to sever their friendship.

He expected all his things to be in a bag on her front stoop for him to pick up and run away with, tail tucked between his legs like the dishonorable idiot he was.

What he didn’t expect, was for Toph to tackle him in a hug.

Zuko froze, stiffening as Toph squeezed him so hard it hurt, before returning the gesture.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, Sparky.” She let go and punched him hard in the arm.

“Hey!” Zuko shouted, affronted.

“And _that_ was for scaring me.”

Zuko rubbed the bruise he could feel forming on his bicep. “I’m sorry. I’ll pay you back for everything.”

“It’s not just about that,” Toph said. “You’re my best friend, Zuko. I was worried I’d lose you for good.”

Zuko smiled, and opened his mouth to reply with something equally heartfelt, but she cut him off.

“Anyway, enough of that gooey stuff. C’mere.” Toph swung her arm up, gesturing for him to follow her around back. “Ta-da!” Toph threw her hands forward and grinned.

Zuko squinted. “What am I looking at?”

“How do I know?” She waved her hand over her face.

“Oh. Right.” He turned a bit to the left (Toph hadn’t quite pointed in the right direction) and that’s when he saw it. Blue Spirit, all fixed up. She looked like new. Fresh tires, scratches buffed out, the works. “Toph, this is … wow.”

“I know how much she means to you,” Toph said, in a rare moment of sincerity. The moment didn’t last. “But I also know you need a set of wheels for how you’re going to pay me back.”

“And how’s that, exactly?”

She smirked. “You’re going on a field trip.”

Toph laid out the plan for him. Apparently, the cops had caught up to the street racing circuit across town, and impounded a really expensive car. A really fast car. A car Toph _really_ wanted.

She wanted Zuko to steal it.

“You want me to what?!” Zuko yelled, jolting back. “That's crazy.”

“You’re acting like you’ve never stolen a car before. Or are you forgetting how you got Blue Spirit?”

Zuko shook his head. “That’s different. Spirit was already stolen to begin with! Jet didn’t deserve her,” he added, muttering bitter. “You’re asking me to steal a car from my _father._ ” He hissed the last word like it stung.

“And what better way to get back at him than to swipe one of the biggest busts of his career right from under his nose, just one day before his big press conference to brag about it on TV?”

That stopped Zuko in his tracks. _Oh_. She was right. That _would_ be the perfect revenge. And better yet, Ozai wouldn’t even know who had sabotaged him. “Okay,” he breathed. “I’m in.”

“It’s too big a job for you to do alone. You get too reckless too easily,” she said.

Zuko felt his stomach drop. She can’t be suggesting—

“You’ll need to take someone with you who’ll stop you from going too far.” A grin spread across her face. “And lucky for you, I know someone just like that who still owes me.”

_Sokka_

Sokka had been home from the hospital for about a week when the knock came at his door. He was doing much better – even got his stitches out early thanks to Katara’s healing sessions. There would still be a scar, but he found he wasn’t as upset about that as he thought he’d be. It was kinda badass. _A battle scar_.

The knocking grew more insistent. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he shouted, exasperated. He hoped it was those wildlife scouts selling jerky again. He was ready to buy an unfathomable number of boxes.

But when he threw open the door, he was instead met with a tall, shaggy-haired boy with a frown across his face. Sokka’s heart leapt into his throat. _Be cool, be cool!_ He told himself. He was worried his hands would tremble with nervousness, so he crossed his arms and leaned into the doorframe to steady himself.

“Hey,” he said, and silently thanked the spirits for not letting his voice crack.

“Hey, uh. Zuko here,” the boy waved sheepishly. Spirits, that was cute.

“I know,” he said, trying not to laugh. Zuko seemed flustered enough as it is.

The silence that fell between them was palpable.

Zuko broke it first, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down so his hair covered his eyes a little. “I was… wondering if you’d maybe…”

Sokka’s eyes widened. _Oh spirits, he’s asking me out on a date_. “YES,” Sokka blurted, a little too enthusiastically, just as Zuko was finishing his sentence: “… like to steal a car with me?”

“Wait. What?” Sokka’s jaw dropped.

Zuko cleared his throat. “Steal a car. With me.”

Sokka just stared at him, mouth hanging open in disbelief.

“Toph says this is the only way for us to pay her back for all the damage we did and, well.” He seemed to get a little resolve back. “She says she’ll fix Boomerang up for you in return.”

Sokka didn’t have to think about it long. On one hand, highly illegal. On the other hand, he’d get to go pull a heist with this incredibly cute, mysterious boy he maybe had a crush on. It was a quick decision – he’d already committed some crimes by racing to begin with. And it felt like one heck of a crime to toss away the opportunity for an adventure with Zuko.

“I’m in.”

“Great. I’ll uh, pick you up at sunset?”

Sokka nodded.

“Wear something dark,” Zuko called over his shoulder as he turned and walked down the steps toward his burgundy and gold Wrangler.

Sokka watched him from the doorjamb as he climbed into the Jeep and kept watching as the car rolled down the street and turned out of view. He shut the door and leaned against the wall with a sigh.

“Sounds like you have a date,” Suki teased, grinning at him. “And he’s already telling you what to wear? What kind of sexy shenanigans does _that_ entail?”

Sokka’s cheeks flushed a deeper red than Zuko’s Jeep, which only made Suki grin harder. “It’s not a date, it’s…” he trailed off, trying to come up with something else that was believable. His shoulders slumped. “Okay, it’s kind of a date, isn’t it.”

Suki laughed. “C’mon. I’ll help you pick out the cutest outfit for your tall, dark and handsome suitor.”

Sokka grumbled, but he was grateful for Suki’s help. She flicked through his closet looking for a shirt with sleeves (she didn’t find any). Suki pulled out slim-fitting dark-wash jeans (because in her words, his ass looked great in them, a revelation that made him protest just a little too much for her to believe him), a navy tank top, and his dad’s dark brown suede bomber jacket. It was more his jacket now than his dad’s – the leather had started to crease from Sokka wearing it so much. Even the fur around the collar had stopped smelling like Hakoda.

“You sure you don’t want any makeup?” Suki asked as she stepped back to admire her handiwork.

“Not this time,” he said with a smile. “Thanks again, Suki.” He really was grateful to have a best friend like her.

“Anytime,” she winked. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell Katara. I don’t think she’s forgiven him for the crash.”

Sokka barked a laugh. “Which one?”

Suki raised an eyebrow. Oh right, he’d never told her about the fender bender with Zuko before the race. “Long story,” he said, checking his watch. “I’ll tell you later. Gotta go, bye!” He darted out of the room and down the stairs before she had a chance to stop him.

The sun was just starting to dip below the trees when Zuko pulled up. Sokka was surprised to see him driving Blue Spirit. Seeing Zuko behind the wheel of his secret identity’s car reminded Sokka just how serious this was. Still, his heart pounded in his chest and he couldn’t tell if it was nervousness or excitement.

“You ready?” Zuko asked as Sokka climbed into the passenger seat. He was in black jeans, a deep burgundy shirt and a black motorcycle jacket. He had gold aviator sunglasses on to cover his face, even though the light was fading.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He buckled his seatbelt, and took a breath to steady himself as Zuko shifted into drive.

“So what’s the plan?” Sokka asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Simple,” Zuko said, staring at the road in front of them. “We break into the police impound lot and steal the car.”

“That’s it?” Sokka asked, skeptical.

“That’s what?” Zuko shot back.

“That’s not a plan.”

“It so totally _is_ a plan!”

“No, it’s just breaking and entering. What if there’s a guard? What if we can’t find the car? How are we getting out?” Sokka counted all the reasons on his fingers.

“Okay, _fine_ ,” Zuko snapped. “What’s your idea then?”

“Well first, we can’t just drive up in your Jeep. It may be your Batmobile and all but you’re out of costume, Mr. Wayne,” he thought he could see Zuko’s expression grappling between mild humor and annoyance. “We should probably sneak in on foot and speed out of there together.”

Zuko just grumbled. Sokka took it as agreement. He leaned over and picked up Zuko’s bag, rummaging around in it. He was looking for blueprints or a map or something he could use to make a plan, but instead the bag just had some bolt cutters, a screwdriver, wire cutters, tape and an aggressive amount of fire flakes.

Sokka was feeling a little better about the whole situation. At least the guy had planned _something_ and packed the stuff they needed.

They drove in silence for a while until Zuko suddenly turned the wheel and coaxed Blue Spirit off the road and into the woods. They drove a ways further until they couldn’t see the road anymore, and then Zuko killed the engine.

“Here,” Zuko said, handing Sokka a mask. It looked like some sort of theater mask.

“Really?” Sokka said, turning it over in his hands skeptically. “You don’t have like, a regular ski mask or something?”

“I don’t ski,” he deadpanned.

Sokka just looked at him blankly and then busted out laughing. Zuko just stared.

“Oh, you’re serious,” Sokka said, still snickering and wiping a tear out of his eye. Somehow, that made it even funnier. “Wait. Have you ever even _seen_ snow?”

“Let’s get moving,” Zuko said, stepping out of the Jeep and hiking his pack onto his shoulder. He tucked the car key into the wheel well. “In case they catch us, I don’t want them finding her.”

Sokka shrugged. “Makes sense.”

The boys headed out into the woods. It was pitch dark, so Zuko lit a small flame in his hand and held it out in front of him like a torch. It still wasn’t a lot of light, and Sokka was probably still getting over a concussion from the crash last week. His foot caught under a tree root and he stumbled forward with a gasp.

Zuko caught him by the chest with his other arm before Sokka could go face-first into the dirt. Sokka looked up at him, grateful and surprised, but Zuko just snatched his arm back and turned away. _Oh_. Maybe this wasn’t a weird first date after all. Maybe Zuko really just dragged him along because he owed him.

They walked in silence toward the impound lot for what felt like an eternity. They must’ve parked at least two miles away. Sokka tried to shrug off the latest awkward interaction with Zuko and pulled a pack of fire flakes he’d swiped from Zuko’s backpack out of his pocket.

“Want some?” he said through a mouthful of the spicy snack, holding the box out to Zuko.

Sokka could almost feel Zuko’s nausea. “How can you think about eating at a time like this?”

Sokka blinked and looked down at the fire flakes. “I was hungry. Are you not?”

Zuko shook his head.

“Are you… nervous?”

Zuko didn’t answer with words. But his gaze shifted downward to the ground and he shuffled his foot. It was enough of an answer.

“But based on everything you packed, you’ve done this before?” Sokka asked. This guy was a legend on the illegal race circuit, had an alter ego, was a badass driver, and clearly knew the tools you needed to hotwire a car. So how in the Spirits’ names could he be so nervous?

“It’s a long story.” Zuko started walking again.

Sokka quickened his pace to get next to him again. “Tell it to me over dinner sometime,” Sokka smirked, trying to weasel past some of Zuko’s many, many walls.

But Zuko just threw up his arm to stop Sokka in his tracks. “Shh. We’re here.”


	9. Chapter 9

_Zuko_

The impound lot wasn’t really a sight to behold. Zuko had been here a handful of times when he was younger and his father begrudgingly dragged him on a ride along. Zuko had begged to go, but Ozai had always made him wait in the car. The disappointment of that only grew into frustration when his father seemed more than happy to bring Azula along with him, and would actually include her. All while Zuko waited alone in the car.

He shrugged off the memory. Sokka stepped up next to him on the hilltop overlooking the lot. “Hm,” the boy said, narrowing his eyes and leaning forward on his toes.

“What are you—“

“Shh,” Sokka waved a hand at him dismissively. “I’m making a mental map of this place.”

“It’s a parking lot.”

“It’s a well-guarded, barbed wire fence-enclosed _facility_ ,” Sokka said.

Zuko rolled his eyes a little, but fell quiet like he was asked. He watched Sokka “make his mental map” in a sort of skeptical awe. Sokka’s face was scrunched up in concentration and he’d brought his hand up to his chin. He was muttering softly to himself as he worked out some sort of plan. The whole thing wasn’t just embarrassingly dorky. It was _endearingly_ so.

He was transfixed watching Sokka. He hadn’t expected his partner in crime to be so smooth and confident and bold, and yet almost comical about it. He felt the self-doubt creep back in, so he drew his jacket a little tighter around himself. It was starting to get brisk at night this time of year, he told himself. Summer was fading, and he didn’t much like the cold. His heart beat faster in his chest the longer he looked at Sokka. _It must just be the nervousness of the heist_ , he thought. He turned his attention to instead focus on his breath to feel a little warmer, and a little calmer.

“Okay. Okay, I’m ready.”

The pair made their way down the hill, quietly winding between the trees. When they got closer, Zuko motioned for them to put on their masks.

He pulled the bolt cutters out of his backpack and fell into a crouch, inching closer to the fence. Sokka did the same, dropping down and following silently behind him. He had to check over his shoulder to make sure Sokka was even still there. From his driving to his confidence to this, this boy just kept impressing Zuko over and over.

 _Focus_ , the voice in his head pressed. Zuko lined up the bolt cutters and pushed. The _snap_ that came from the bolt cutters shearing through the metal might as well have been a gunshot. The fence vibrated, and Zuko winced as the metal jingled loudly.

“Dude,” Sokka whispered. “You gotta find a way to make that quieter.”

“How exactly am I supposed to do that?” Zuko hissed, annoyance and embarrassment clashing together into a nasty emotion.

Sokka just quietly shifted forward and grabbed Zuko’s wrist, interrupting his thoughts. He pressed his palm into Zuko’s hand to flatten out his fingers, and then held it up to the fence. Zuko’s breath caught in his throat.

“Heat,” Sokka whispered in his ear. That wouldn’t be a problem, Zuko half-thought, as the brisk night suddenly felt sweltering with Sokka’s breath brushing his neck. He tugged at his collar before resting his other hand on the fence. He took a deep breath, and steam curled out of his lips when he exhaled.

The metal underneath his hands rose in temperature, heating like the coils on a stove. Sokka picked up the bolt cutters, quickly snipping through the now much-more-pliable links in the fence until there was a gap big enough for them to squeeze through. Sokka stuffed the tool back into the backpack and carefully fit himself through the fence. Zuko followed close behind.

Zuko picked up the discarded fence links and used his fire to weld it back into place. It wasn’t pretty, but in the dark, the guards walking past this section wouldn’t notice.

He caught Sokka watching him, and the boy just nodded and whispered “good idea,” back at him. The compliment made a small smile tug at the corners of Zuko’s lips.

They crouched and moved quickly from car to car, pausing briefly in the shadows and holding their breath until they were sure they weren’t seen. So far, so good.

Sokka held up his hand in a fist to signal to Zuko to pause. Zuko dropped lower into the shadows. He watched as Sokka dug around in his pocket and pulled out a small spool of fishing line.

Sokka waited for a guard to walk by on their rounds, then tied one end of the wire tight around the spoke of the wheel of the car they were hidden behind. When the guard was out of sight, Sokka glided forward in a crouched run and looped the wire around the wheel of a car across the path and tied the other end to the door handle.

Zuko wondered absently how helpful a tripwire would actually be, but he let Sokka carry out whatever plan he’d made on the top of the hill.

They kept moving, and after a few more excruciatingly slow minutes, they made it to the car.

“Oh _woah_ ,” Sokka exhaled. “Now _that’s_ a nice ride.” He reached out and ran his hand along the curved side of the burnt orange Corvette ZR1. It was by all definitions, a super car. One of the fastest street legal cars you could get on this side of the world.

“I’m going to hotwire it,” he whispered to Sokka. “That’s going to make some noise.”

Sokka pulled up his mask and grinned. “Way ahead of you.” He yanked up the back of his shirt, and tucked in the waistband was—

“Is that a boomerang?”

Sokka just winked. “Work your magic, jerkbender. I’ll work mine.” He pulled his mask back down over his face.

 _Jerkbender?_ Zuko barely had time to register the offbeat insult when Sokka leaned back and heaved the boomerang across the parking lot.

Zuko sprang into action as he heard glass shatter in the distance, and a whoosh of air as the boomerang came spiraling back. He swiftly picked the lock and sank into the driver’s seat. He deftly unscrewed the cover hiding the wires underneath the steering wheel and got to work.

He heard shouting, and footsteps running somewhere in the complex. He didn’t look up. He had to trust that Sokka would do his part. Zuko cut and stripped the two wires responsible for powering the car, and sparked them together. _C’mon, c’mon_.

He heard Sokka grunt as he threw the boomerang again, followed by more shattered glass and yelling. The noise made Zuko jerk up instinctively, just in time to see a guard go running toward the sound of the glass, only to trip over Sokka’s trap. The guard went down with a hard _thud_ , and the force of his foot hitting the wire yanked the car door handle and set off the alarm. _Perfect_. The wires sparked, and the Corvette roared into life, the sound covered by the car alarm across the lot. He used the strip of tape he was holding between his teeth to cover the exposed ends of the wire as Sokka leapt into the passenger seat.

“Come on, Zuko, we’ve gotta move!” he shouted.

Zuko didn’t have to be told twice. He shifted into drive and gunned it, drifting into a hard turn and pointing the car straight at the weak point in the fence. By the time the guards, who Sokka had herded to the wrong side of the lot, had realized what was going on, Zuko was already crashing through his second fence in just as many weeks and racing off into the night.

Sokka laughed and whooped in triumph as they tore off their masks and chucked them into the backseat. Zuko busted out laughing.

“Oh Spirits, I can’t believe we just did that!” Sokka yelled, exhilarated. “That was amazing. _You_ were amazing!”

Zuko just reddened and fought off a smile. He wasn’t great at handling compliments, so he turned it back around on Sokka. “So were you,” he said. “That tripwire was brilliant. And whoever would’ve thought a boomerang would be useful in real life,” he gave a small laugh. “Is that why your car’s named Boomerang?”

Sokka’s smile was so wide, it looked like it was about to split his face. “That, and one other reason.”

They sped down the road, Zuko feeling lighter than air.

“So what now?” Sokka asked.

“Toph’s waiting for us a few miles past her property line,” Zuko said, sneaking a glance at Sokka. “She has a bunker there she stashes things in, you can only get to it by earthbending.”

Sokka just let out a low whistle. “That’s genius.”

Zuko fished into his pocket and pulled out his phone, tossing it to Sokka. “Here. Call Toph and let her know we’re on our way.”

Sokka had just finished telling Toph they were heading to her when suddenly, red and blue lights flooded the inside of the car. Zuko’s stomach dropped. _Oh, fuck_.

“Actually,” he heard Sokka say into the phone, “there’s been a change of plans.”


	10. Chapter 10

_Zuko_

Zuko gritted his teeth and squinted against the bright flashing blue that filled the car. The strobing lights pulsed painfully behind his eyes.

“Dude. Zuko,” Sokka said, panic edging into his voice. “Floor it!”

“I… I can’t,” Zuko stuttered out. _Sokka’s the better driver_ , the self-doubt snarled in his mind. _You’ll never get out of this one. You’ll just let him down, just like—_

“That's _bullshit_ ,” Sokka urged, gripping the edge of Zuko’s seat and the dash as he twisted to stare right at him. “You’re an incredible driver. The best I’ve seen. I couldn’t believe I had the honor of racing alongside the freakin’ _Blue Spirit_ —“

Zuko cut him off by shifting into a higher gear and gunning it. The car rocketed forward, roughly throwing Sokka back into his seat as the needle leapt past triple digits.

This thing topped out at well over 210 – there was no way a standard-issue cruiser could even hope to catch them. They’d deem the chase unsafe and abandon it. As far as he was concerned, as long as he kept his cool and didn't lose control on the turns, they were in the clear. The flashing lights faded into the distance behind them, and the adrenaline of fear started to feel thrilling again.

That is, until the blue lights started getting brighter, and brighter. Zuko pressed the pedal to the floor, but the car in his rearview was outpacing them with ease.

He wasn’t going to win this with speed alone – whatever car that was, it was faster than theirs. Dread crawled up the back of his neck, making his hair stand on end. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what it was, and exactly who was behind the wheel. He just had to confirm it.

Zuko let off the gas and jammed on the hand brake, punched the clutch and yanked the wheel hard to the right. The Corvette’s tires screeched in protest as he swung the back end of the car around to face their pursuer. He paused there, idling.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?!” Sokka yelled, gripping the door and the console like his life depended on it.

Zuko took a steadying breath and met Sokka’s eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Sokka said nothing for a long moment, searching Zuko’s eyes. Zuko waited, oddly calm despite the speeding car heading right toward them. This was the only thing that felt like it mattered right now. This moment, right here, with Sokka – in the dark, with their lives on the line, the only thing that mattered was the fact that they were in this together.

“Yes.”

Zuko punched the gas. The scent of burning rubber rose and stung his nostrils as the Corvette’s tires scrambled for purchase before catching and rocketing them forward. The Corvette sped like a missile right toward the other car.

If he was right about who this driver was, he knew they wouldn’t crash together. He knew they were reckless, but recklessly calculated. But most of all, he knew they were dangerous.

Just seconds before impact, he saw Sokka shut his eyes and tense to brace himself. Zuko reached down and laid his hand on Sokka’s clenched fist. Sokka unfurled his fingers, twined them around Zuko’s and squeezed.

Zuko nudged the wheel a millimeter to the right and the Corvette responded, twitching over just enough to scrape by what he could now see was a fiery red Tesla Roadster. One of the fastest cars on the road, almost as fast as the lightning powering it. He turned his head to look at the person behind the wheel, and was met with eyes as golden as his own.

He was met with the fiery gaze of his sister.

Azula didn’t seem surprised to see Zuko. She seemed unsettlingly … satisfied. There was a vicious content in the determined sneer she wore on her face as the cars scraped by, the Corvette’s mirror leaving a trail of sparks as it sliced down the Roadster’s side.

Azula whipped her car around and stopped, and Zuko did the same. The pair faced each other in a tense moment of stillness. The silence was only broken by the Corvette’s low rumbling – the Tesla was as silent as a predator where it crouched.

“Go,” Zuko said through gritted teeth to Sokka.

“What?” Sokka said, shocked out of his silence. “I’m not—I won’t—“

“She saw me. She knows who I am,” Zuko said, keeping his eyes glued to Azula’s car. She revved the engine in a challenge. He tore his gaze away to look at Sokka, who still hadn’t moved. “Get out. Run. She didn’t see you.”

“I—“

“I said to _go_!” Zuko snapped. He ripped his hand away from Sokka’s grasp.

Sokka looked like he wanted to snap back. An angry sort of defiance and hurt flicked across his features in a way that pained Zuko to see, to know that he was the cause of. But he held his ground, staring at Sokka until gold eyes won out against blue. Sokka dropped his gaze.

“Now.” Zuko flicked on the highbeams to blind Azula and provide some cover, and Sokka ducked out the door and sprinted into the dark.

“Come on, _Zuzu_ ,” Azula sneered as she rose out of her car and stepped forward. “Stealing father’s latest achievement in the middle of the night?” She held up her fingers and looked at her nails with a feigned disinterest. “What a coward’s move.”

Zuko climbed out of the Corvette to face her. They both knew he couldn’t outrun her. But what _she_ didn’t know is that he was a much better fighter than the last time they faced off. That last time didn’t end well for Zuko – he still had the scars to prove it.

Zuko clenched his fist. He could still feel the ghost of where Sokka’s fingers had been interlaced with his own. He used the anger he felt toward himself for snapping at Sokka, for putting him in danger like this, to fuel the fire that curled at the edges of his breath.

“What are you even doing here?” He snarled at her.

“Oh, didn’t you know?” Her smirk stretched into something more sinister. “Father’s put me in charge of the precinct. I have everything I want. And now,” she threw her hands out in front of her, blue flames sparking from her palms. “I’m going to put you somewhere I never have to see your face again, and let you _rot_.”

Azula sprang forward and ran toward Zuko, using her momentum to fling a stream of flames in his direction. Zuko set his stance, using his own fire to catch and swirl Azula’s attack away.

Azula shot another bolt of fire in his direction, larger this time. Zuko ducked right and punched a few quick lines of flame right back. Azula dodged easily, still moving toward him. But in the ferocity of her attacks, he knew she was still holding back a little.

Almost like she didn’t want to damage the Corvette. Almost like Ozai wouldn’t forgive her if she screwed this up.

Almost like she was afraid to end up like Zuko – dishonored and banished.

Sokka may be one for plans, but “improvise” was scrawled in heavy ink in Zuko’s playbook. He didn’t plan on facing his sister tonight, didn’t plan on a glorified Agni Kai in the middle of the street, but he definitely had a plan now.

Zuko curled down and threw himself backward into a flip. He kicked a wave of fire at Azula as his hands landed on the hood of the Corvette, and somersaulted himself onto the roof. He dropped and spun, kicking out a brief whirlwind of fire to stop Azula’s advances.

 _Evade_. That was his plan for now. _Evade, until she loses control_. Azula had a short fuse. It was only a matter of time before her pride bubbled over her restraint, and she lost herself to her anger.

A few more moves, a few more spins and taunts, and he could see the rage curling the sneer on her face into a snarl. Her hair had started to come loose and hung in messy strands around her face, swaying slightly as she panted. She was teetering on the edge.

Zuko pressed his luck a little further.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he shouted.

She was close enough now that, illuminated by the bright headlights of the Corvette, he could see her fists clench tighter. Her fingernails must’ve sliced into her palms, because he could see thin line of blood drip down to the pavement.

“All that time learning with _father_ ,” the word felt bitter on his tongue, “and you still can’t land a hit.”

Azula narrowed her eyes. Zuko took this as permission to take one more pointed jab at her weak spot.

“He’d be so disappointed.” Zuko grimaced internally at how _like her_ he sounded. But he held his ground, taking a defensive stance on top of the Corvette in anticipation of her next blast of fire.

But the pure rage on her face twisted into something else – something akin to a manic sort of glee. “I’ll show _you_. I’ll show you why father chose _me_ ,” she brought her hands up and drew two fingers out of her fists into a point. Lightning crackled out of her fingertips.

Zuko’s good eye widened and he sucked in a breath. It was suddenly clear to him just how much he didn’t think this through. He knew how to redirect lightning – his uncle had made sure of that – but not while he was standing on a very conductive, very metal surface. His stomach dropped – he was fast, but not faster than literal lightning. He braced, preparing to try and jump and redirect the bolt from the air – but he knew his chances of surviving that were still slim.

He watched the world fall into slow motion as Azula traced lines through the air, gathering up enough energy to form a devastating bolt. Zuko tensed, ready to jump. Azula brought her arm back, twisted her wrist and—

A brilliant blue light seared Zuko’s vision.

Blue Spirit ripped out of the darkness with a roar, its ocean blue headlights flooding the pavement. The Jeep caught air as it hit the lip of the road and came down hard – right on top of the Tesla’s roof. The windows shattered as the car’s frame buckled from the impact.

The crash made Azula spin in shock. As she turned, lightning sprang from her fingertips – but her distraction did something Azula never did on her own: she missed. The bolt cracked through the air, just grazing past Zuko, and exploding into the tree behind him.

Zuko’s relief was short-lived. The tree splintered, sending shards of bark like shrapnel through the air. Zuko ducked and rolled off the car’s roof as the tree snapped in half. He hit the pavement hard and felt a spike of pain shoot into his left shoulder. Zuko bit down on a cry of pain and scrambled to the side to escape the tree.

He heard a sickening crunch just inches from his head as the tree flattened the Corvette. The windshield exploded into a thousand pieces, sending glass showering down on Zuko as he dragged himself across the asphalt with his good arm.

From where he lay on the road, he could see the Jeep struggling to roll off of the Tesla, its back tire caught in the mangled metal roof. He saw Azula limp toward the Jeep, scraping an injured leg behind her. A shard of the tree she’d shattered jutted out of her calf. She let out a cry of rage and Zuko saw flames kindling at her fingertips as she focused every fiber of her anger at the driver. At Sokka.

“ _No!_ ” he yelled, the word tearing from his chest with a sob. He smacked his palm hard on the pavement. A wall of fire flared up around his hand and rippled forward like a shockwave. He heard Azula scream. Zuko’s vision swam and the road rushed up to meet his face as he collapsed back down.

///

Something dark and wet pooled around his cheek. The back of his teeth tasted sharp and coppery. Steeling himself with determination, Zuko slowly pushed himself up to his knees and shook glass out of his hair. He blinked past the spots in his vision to survey the scene. The Jeep had made it off the Tesla. Low flames licked at the air as they gasped for breath against the lifeless blacktop. The Corvette and Azula’s Tesla were mangled husks of metal and glass. And Azula – Azula was nowhere to be found.

He brought up an arm to shield his eyes against the Jeep’s headlights as it swung around and crawled up next to Zuko. The passenger door swung open, and the blue-eyed boy in the driver’s seat gestured for him to climb in.

“You… you came back,” Zuko choked out as he dragged himself up and into Blue Spirit’s cab.

Sokka smiled – a thin, heartfelt smile that made Zuko’s heart tighten just at the sight of it. “I always do.”

A dozen emotions flitted through Zuko’s brain as he stared at Sokka. His eyes traced the lines of concern and relief on Sokka’s face. But as Zuko’s adrenaline died down, the pain in his arm flared up. Zuko tensed and coiled in on himself, gripping his shoulder and hissing air through his clenched teeth.

“You’re hurt,” Sokka murmured. “Let me see.”

Zuko begrudgingly pulled his hand away from his left shoulder, and his palm was slick with blood. His jacket had torn, and he could see a jagged gash across his skin. Zuko groaned and flexed his palm, trying to summon some fire, but he couldn’t get his breath under control.

“What are you—“

“C-cauterize,” Zuko stammered out through gritted teeth.

Sokka reached out to grab his wrist and just shook his head softly. All the fight drained out of Zuko, and he thumped his head back against the headrest. He heard rustling from the driver’s seat and cracked open his eye to see Sokka shrugging off his leather jacket. Sokka grabbed the back collar of his tank top and pulled it off over his head. Zuko snapped his head around in surprise.

Sokka didn’t seem to notice Zuko’s stare. He folded his shirt into a band and pressed it firmly against Zuko’s wound. Zuko sucked in a breath as another jolt of pain seared through his shoulder.

“Here. Keep pressure on it.”

Zuko nodded and did what he was told, pressing Sokka’s shirt against his arm to slow the bleeding. “Aren’t you cold?” He mumbled, eyeing Sokka’s now shirtless torso. The thought was half-formed in his brain, now muddy from shock. He hadn’t even realized he’d said it out loud.

Sokka laughed a little. “I grew up in the tundra. This is like summer to me.”

Zuko shivered despite himself. From the chilly night, the sudden absence of the heat of the firefight he’d just been in, or the shock – he wasn’t sure.

Sokka’s thin smile fell into a line of concern. His brow furrowed and he chewed the inside of his lip, considering something. Then he reached into the backseat where he’d tossed his jacket, and draped it around Zuko’s shoulders. Sokka pushed Zuko’s bangs back from his forehead and looked at him with an unreadable expression.

Zuko melted into the touch, into the feeling of safety it brought. A feeling that was already rare for him to come by. Zuko’s breath deepened and his eyes slid closed.

“Hey,” Sokka said, sliding his palm down to cup Zuko’s cheek. Zuko leaned into his palm. “Hey, you have to stay awake for me, okay? Just for a little while.”

Zuko nodded and shook his head sharply to wake back up. He pressed Sokka’s shirt hard into his arm and the sharp ache jolted him up.

Sokka shifted the Jeep into drive and hit the gas, putting distance between them and the smoldering wreckage. Zuko watched the smoke fade in the rearview mirror.

“Where are we going?” He murmured.

“Somewhere safe. I promise.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Part Three: Rubicon**

_Zuko_

They drove for around an hour or so, though time kept slipping in and out of Zuko’s awareness. Wherever they were going, Sokka was taking a really roundabout way of getting there. He kept cutting through side streets, killing the headlights and coasting quietly through neighborhoods, taking shortcuts off road.

To anyone else, he would’ve seemed lost. But Zuko knew him better than that by now. He didn’t have to ask – he knew Sokka was worried about being followed. The more surprising revelation for Zuko, was that he didn’t _want_ to ask, either.

Logically, he knew he probably shouldn’t let a half-stranger drive him, hurt and vulnerable, in _his_ car, to an unknown location off the grid. But he _felt_ so sure he could trust Sokka, he couldn’t bring himself to be anxious about that. And besides, Zuko tended to rely more on his gut feeling than on logic anyway.

It was around two in the morning when they rolled up to a cabin tucked so deep in the woods, they hadn’t been on pavement for quite some time. It was though someone built the place and forgot to connect it to civilization. Sokka cut Blue Spirit’s engine and climbed out. He walked around to the passenger side and opened Zuko’s door.

“I can do it,” he mumbled stubbornly, but had little energy beyond his verbal protest.

“I know you can,” Sokka said. “But you don’t have to alone.” He held out his arm and Zuko let himself lean against it like a brace as he slid to the ground. His hand ached from where it had been pressed against his wound for the drive. He peeked under the makeshift bandage that was Sokka’s discarded shirt and found the bleeding had slowed significantly. That was good, at least.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up,” Sokka guided Zuko up the steps to the porch. Sokka reached up the doorframe and swiped a key off the top ledge.

Zuko watched as he shimmied the key into the lock and opened the door. “Is this your place?”

“My family’s, yeah,” there was a solemnness to his voice. “We used to come here every summer.”

Zuko hummed a tired acknowledgement and followed Sokka inside.

It was modestly decorated inside, with dusty family photos in mismatched frames haphazardly placed along the walls. The cabin was built into a hill, so the entryway stopped short at a railing overlooking the main part of the house, which sprawled out on an open lower level. To the left, the indoor balcony led to what Zuko assumed were the bedrooms, and to the right was a staircase.

Sokka nudged Zuko’s uninjured arm up and over his shoulders to steady him as they went down the stairs. Zuko was tired, sure, but the shock had long worn off. He could walk, he was pretty certain. But he couldn’t find it in him to argue.

Sokka mumbled quiet encouragements to fill the silence as he guided Zuko to the kitchen.

“Here,” Sokka said after leading him to the stool at the breakfast bar. “Let me get a better look at that cut.”

Zuko tugged his sleeve tenderly and worked his way out of the jacket, then rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Ah, shit.”

The cut was several inches long, and felt deep. But what was worse was the splinters, glass, gravel and whatever else was thrown at him in the blast that was now embedded in the cut.

Sokka’s eyes widened when he saw it. “Oh Spirits, that’s not good. Wait right here,” he said as he hurried off into a bathroom and started rummaging around under the sink.

“Really, I was planning on going out for a run,” Zuko said flatly. “Care to join?”

“ _Hey_ ,” Sokka said with mock annoyance, popping his head out from around the doorframe. “I’m supposed to be the sarcasm guy.” He went back under the sink to dig around some more, and muttered, “You’re supposed to sit there and brood or something.”

“I can still hear you.”

Sokka just laughed. “Found it!”

“What, a shirt?”

“Better.” He trotted back into the kitchen, triumphantly carrying a first aid kit. He set it on the counter and pulled out some gauze, rubbing alcohol and tweezers. “This, uh. This isn’t gonna feel good.”

Zuko grimaced.

“Wait, I have just the thing!” Sokka whirled on his heel and pulled a bottle of whiskey out of the cabinet.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a whiskey guy,” Zuko said, raising his eyebrow.

“I’m not,” he said, uncapping the bottle and taking a sip. He immediately shivered, coughed through his nose and cleared his throat. “My dad is, though. If it were up to me, we’d have something that was actually _fun_ to drink.” He slid the bottle across the counter to Zuko. “But my dad would never let me buy a margarita machine for the place.”

Zuko stifled a laugh and took a swig from the bottle. It was some pretty strong stuff. A few more draws like that, and he was pretty sure his arm wouldn’t hurt anymore. He was pretty sure _nothing_ would.

Sokka dragged a stool up next to Zuko and picked up the tweezers to start digging the debris out of his wound. Zuko winced as he felt the tweezers grab something and pull. He bit down on his lip and took another drag of whiskey.

“So who even _was_ that girl? I’ve never seen a cop car like that before,” Sokka said, reaching back in with the tweezers to grab another splinter of tree bark.

“She’s my sister.”

Sokka's hand slipped in surprise, jabbing Zuko’s arm with the tweezers.

“Hey, watch it!”

“Sorry, she’s your _what_?”

“My sister. We don’t exactly get along.”

“Huh. Looked to me like a happy family reunion,” Sokka dropped a shard of glass he’d pulled out of Zuko’s arm into the dish with a _clink_. “My sister and I _always_ try to murder each other in the street.”

“Ow!” Zuko winced. “Your bedside manner is atrocious.” He raised the bottle to his lips for another sip to take the edge off.

Sokka barked a laugh. “Yeah but my _bed_ manners are—“

Zuko choked on the whiskey. It burned in his throat like fire as he tried to laugh and cough at the same time. “Agni, you’re going to kill me.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be doing a good enough job of that on your own,” Sokka teased. A slight grin spread across his face, but there was an air of scolding to the words.

“You’re one to talk,” Zuko huffed, a little indignantly. “Weren’t you just getting stitches in your face a week ago?”

Sokka tried – and failed – to fight off a wry smile. “Would you believe that’s the first time I’ve ever gotten stitches?”

Zuko barked a laugh. “No way.” He squinted and nodded disbelievingly at a long scar running across Sokka’s ribs. “What’s that, then?”

“Staples,” he grinned. “Doesn’t count.”

Zuko just rolled his eyes and sipped from the bottle again. But he couldn’t help but smile at Sokka, whose face was scrunched up again in concentration as he looked for any more debris in Zuko’s cut.

“It’s from me being stupid. I was just a kid, messing around with my dad’s hunting gear,” Sokka said, still focused on Zuko’s arm. “Who knew boomerangs came back so hard! I tried to grab it, but I caught it with my ribs instead. Not my best idea.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Sokka shrugged. “I think in the end I was just trying to prove myself. Katara could do all that cool waterbendy stuff. I wanted to be good at something too.” His tone shifted to be more serious. “I think I was really just trying to impress my dad.”

“Ha. So was I,” Zuko said bitterly, pointing to his scar.

Sokka stilled, his left hand still holding the tweezers hovering just over Zuko’s skin. Zuko could see a dozen questions forming in Sokka’s head, questions he didn’t know how to ask.

Zuko turned his focus down to the countertop. The alcohol had given him the courage to open up a little, but he wasn’t quite ready to lay out all his trauma like that. So he just gave Sokka the really, really brief sparknotes.

“I stood up to him. And he struck me down.”

When he mustered the strength to look up, he found Sokka studying his face. Sokka chewed the inside of his lip. Sokka wasn’t looking at him in pity, at least. He looked… _hurt_. That was somehow worse. He immediately regretted sharing that – he hadn’t meant to one-up Sokka’s story, or to kill the mood.

His eyes retreated down to the comfort of the granite again. “I’m sorry,” Zuko said.

The hurt on Sokka’s face jumped immediately to surprise. “For what?”

Zuko wracked his brain for an answer, but came up short.

“What happened to you isn’t okay,” he said. “But it’s okay to open up to people. I’m grateful you trust me enough to tell me that.”

 _If only you knew,_ Zuko thought. He almost said it out loud – the whiskey had started to work its magic, eating away at his usual guard. The world fuzzed a little at the edges, like a vignette filter on a photo, and the sharp pain in his arm was now more of a dull, numb ache. He took another sip anyway, and shoved the bottle back toward Sokka.

Sokka obliged and took a long swig.

“I think we got all the debris out,” he said slowly. “How do you feel?”

“I’ve been better. But it hurts less now.”

“That’s probably just the whiskey,” Sokka said, soaking a square of gauze with alcohol from the medical kit. “This might sting a little.”

He pressed the gauze against the wound, but Zuko didn’t even flinch. To be honest, he barely felt it. Instead, Zuko nodded at a guitar leaning up in the corner of the living room. “Do you play?”

“Play what—“ He glanced over his shoulder and saw the half-abandoned guitar, now covered in a thick layer of cobwebs and dust. “Oh. Sortof. My mom did. She was teaching me, before… before…” he trailed off, seeming to stare past the guitar instead of at it.

Zuko knew that look, that feeling. Getting caught in a long-dead memory of someone no longer here.

He wasn’t great at comforting people, especially in a tactile way like Sokka seemed to be, but this was a pain he understood with every fiber of his being. He reached out and placed his hand on Sokka’s chest, just over his heart. “I understand.”

Sokka just nodded and covered Zuko’s hand with his own. He didn’t meet Zuko’s eyes.

“It was a long time ago,” Sokka finally said, breaking his uncharacteristic silence.

“That doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

Sokka just gave Zuko a watery smile before suddenly reaching for the first aid kit again. Zuko dropped his hand away from Sokka’s chest. “You probably need stitches,” he said, changing the subject. “But I can’t even sew pants let alone an _arm_ , so. We’ll have to do the next best thing.”

Zuko opened his mouth to reply, but Sokka cut him off.

“No, we’re not cauterizing it. It’s not even bleeding anymore.”

Zuko snapped his mouth shut.

“You don’t have to solve all your problems with firebending, y’know.” Sokka pulled out a box of butterfly bandages and a roll of gauze.

“You’re no fun,” Zuko huffed.

Sokka just rolled his eyes. He leaned closer to Zuko’s arm, pinching the middle of the wound together and applying a bandage to keep it shut. Zuko winced a little – the whiskey had dulled the pain, but this still didn’t feel great. Sokka worked quickly at least, moving to the corners of the cut and adding more bandages parallel to the gash to hold it all in place. Then, he took the gauze and wound it around Zuko’s arm, making sure it wasn’t too tight.

“There,” Sokka said, leaning back to admire his handiwork.

Zuko rolled his shoulder, flexing the bandage a little to get it more comfortable. “Thanks. Where’d you learn how to do that?”

Sokka shrugged. “After we lost my mom, my sister and I were left alone a lot. We were pretty rough and tumble kids, so.” He turned and started putting away the first aid supplies. “I had to look after her. Pretty soon, though, it was her looking after me.” He laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it.

“You two sound really close.”

“Yeah. For a while, she and I only had each other.”

Zuko looked down at his hands. For a few years, that’s how he and Azula were. Until a wedge was forced between them. There were a lot of factors in the disintegration of his relationship with his sister, and many of them were named Ozai.

“Fuck, we suck at small talk. Look at us, two traumatized, semi-functional adults,” Sokka winked. Zuko knew the humor in Sokka’s statement was a little bitter and a little more forced, but he was grateful for the optimism, no matter how strained it was.

Sokka slid off the stool and twisted into a long, languid stretch – and Zuko suddenly became very, _very_ aware that Sokka was still shirtless. His eyes raked down Sokka’s body, tracing past the black band tattooed on his bicep, and lingering a little too long on his abs and the dip of where his hipbones disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Hey,” Sokka said. Zuko couldn’t tell if the smile on Sokka’s face was because he’d caught him staring or not. “I know something that’ll cheer us both up, if you’re up for it.”

Zuko nodded. Any semblance of fatigue had been washed away by the whiskey. “On one condition, though.” Because he knew that alcohol mixed with even another few minutes of being around Sokka like _that_ would lead to him doing something very, very stupid.

“Sure.”

“You need a shirt.”

Sokka just pouted, and Zuko pointedly looked away. Sokka groaned. “ _Fiiine_.”

“Are you going to tell me any more about what you’re planning?” Zuko shouted after Sokka, who’d started climbing the stairs to go find a shirt he’d probably cut the sleeves off of.

Sokka just shot a grin over his shoulder. “I know a place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slaps chapter* this bad boy can fit so much fucking trauma in it  
> sokka really strikes me as the kinda guy who doesn't see the point in drinking booze if it doesn't taste good. i kinda have to agree with him  
> also i'm shamelessly naming all the parts of this story after jeep models lmao  
> renegade. compass. rubicon. none of you can stop me


	12. Chapter 12

_Sokka_

Sokka knew a place, all right.

He knew about a kickass playground that was conveniently tucked behind a quiet, darkened school a little ways down the road. It was a little too far to _want_ to walk to, but they’d both been drinking whiskey, so they didn’t have a choice.

Zuko had drank a little more than he had, so Sokka let him lean up on his shoulder as they walked, passing the bottle back and forth.

It was chilly out this late at night, but Sokka didn’t mind. Sure, he could see his breath in the crisp almost-autumn air, but the whiskey had him feeling immune to the dip in temperature. And having Zuko, who was now once again wearing Sokka’s bomber jacket with the fur collar, practically hanging off his arm as they walked made him feel warm inside and out.

The alcohol had made Zuko much chattier, and Sokka smiled as he listened to the once-flustered and reserved man at his side now suddenly unable to take a breath between words. He talked about music, about theater, and about how this one group absolutely butchered one of his favorite plays.

“… Did not do the characters justice! It’s like in between shows they forgot everything they’d learned. They erased the arcs,” Zuko said, passing the bottle to Sokka who took another sip and passed it back.

Sokka suddenly realized Zuko’s chatter had fallen away, and the only thing to break the silence was the gravel beneath their shoes. “You okay?”

“I’m talking too much, aren’t I,” Zuko said, tucking his head down a little shamefully to hide in Sokka’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“What? No!” Sokka said, resting his cheek on Zuko’s head. “I’m enjoying listening to you,” he murmured into Zuko’s hair. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of honey and cinnamon whiskey and the crackle of pine from the start of a campfire. He smelled like an October night.

It was true what he said. He admittedly found Zuko’s ramblings a little difficult to follow, since he wasn’t well-versed in theater himself. But Zuko was so passionate about what he was saying, Sokka couldn’t help but listen, and feel a tug at his heart for how freakin’ _cute_ he found it.

He didn’t dare say that though. Sure, Zuko picked flowers for him, but he was in the hospital so hadn’t that been an obligation? And surely that almost-kiss at his hospital bed had been mostly in his imagination – he’d just had a head injury after all. And the handholding in the car? Life-or-death scenario – doesn’t count.

He nudged Zuko with his elbow. “We’re here.”

Zuko glanced up and his eyes widened. “You had me walk in the cold, in the middle of the night, for a _playground_?”

“Yeah.” Nervousness coiled in Sokka’s gut.

“ _Fuck_ yeah.” Zuko dropped the bottle of whiskey and took off running, shouting that he was claiming dibs on the hanging zip line that ran from one end of the playground to the other.

Sokka barely caught the bottle before it shattered on the pavement, and then sprinted after Zuko, exhilaration replacing the doubt that had crept in just moments before.

He caught up to Zuko just as he’d kicked off from the zip line, hanging from just his right arm and hugging his injured one close to his chest. Zuko’s shirt rode up as he hung from the handlebar, and Sokka could just see the trailing edges of a tattoo down his side. It looked like the tail of a dragon. He desperately wanted to see more of that tattoo. Before he could get a good look at it, Zuko sprang off the platform with a shout, tucking his legs up high since he was much too tall for this ride.

Zuko crashed into the mulch knee-first, dropping to the ground and rolling onto his back with a laugh. His glee was infectious. Sokka found he couldn’t stop laughing either.

He couldn’t remember the last time he got to play like this, and to feel light-hearted like this – like the kid he didn’t get the chance to be. He only really felt free and happy when he was behind the wheel; now, he felt the same just being around Zuko.

They messed around on the playground like that for quite a while, Sokka showing off by doing ill-advised drunken flips off the monkey bars until Zuko _hogged_ them by lying on top of bars and refusing to move.

“That can’t even be comfortable,” Sokka whined.

“Oh, it’s not,” Zuko said, still making no effort to get off the monkey bars. In fact, he seemed to settle in even more, throwing his arms above his head and twisting into a lazy stretch.

Sokka narrowed his eyes and rolled his shoulders back like a cat ready to pounce. Then he leapt forward, reaching up through the bars and tickling Zuko’s ribs. Zuko shouted in surprise and quickly fell into a fit of laughter, trying to escape from Sokka’s hands.

“O-okay! Okay,” Zuko gasped, dangerously close to rolling off the ledge. “I’ll come down.”

Sokka dropped his hands. “Race you to the swings!”

“There’s _swings_?” Zuko barely got out the words before Sokka turned on his heel and ran, kicking up mulch chips behind him. Zuko killed the bottle of whiskey (against his better judgment) and staggered off to follow him.

The set of swings was off in the grass, in a clearing just past the edge of the playground. Zuko grabbed the swing next to Sokka and the two of them leaned back to look at the stars.

Sokka suddenly felt his energy waning. The booze was catching up to him, and he didn’t feel too much like swinging back and forth in any sort of repetitive motion right now. Not unless he felt like tasting the alcohol a second time.

He sunk down so the swing seat pressed into his spine, letting him lean back, dig his heels into the grass and sway a little. He glanced over to Zuko, who did the same. He knew Zuko’d had more to drink than he had, and it looked like he was starting to feel it catch up with him too.

Zuko was transfixed by the stars. Sokka couldn’t help but watch Zuko instead of marveling at the universe above. The way his hair flowed messily past his face, the way his eyes so easily brightened at the simple beauty of the sky. This boy shone like the fucking sun even in the middle of the night, Sokka thought. It was impossible to look away. He was in awe.

Zuko turned his head to meet Sokka’s eyes, and a warm, soft smile spread across his face. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Zuko just stared at him with that adorably goofy smile on his face, and Sokka could tell _this_ was who Zuko really was behind all those walls and barbed wire he kept around himself. Someone who was thoughtful and caring and warm. Zuko blinked slowly at him, and Sokka blinked back.

Sokka wasn’t sure how long they held each other’s gaze, or when they’d started holding each other’s hands. But he knew he never wanted it to end.

///

_Zuko_

Zuko knew he’d barely remember the walk back to the cabin. He steadied himself on Sokka’s shoulder, less on purpose than he’d had on the way there.

On the walk to the playground, he’d used his tipsiness as an excuse to be close to Sokka – on the walk back, Sokka was his crutch. He knew Sokka was also drunk, but the other boy seemed to be sobering up.

Zuko on the other hand, wasn’t handling his liquor as gracefully.

They made it back to the cabin and down to the kitchen, where Sokka thrust a glass of water into Zuko’s hands.

“Chug that. This one too,” he said, filling up another glass before Zuko even had the chance to sip the first one.

Zuko did what he was told, and instantly felt better.

“We should try to get some sleep,” Sokka said. “The sun’s gonna come up in like two hours, and I have a strict policy of not seeing that happen.” He yawned louder than Zuko thought was really necessary.

But it made him suddenly aware of how tired he was. He also became very aware of how hard the alcohol was hitting him, despite the water. It turns out, while it made him _feel_ better, it did _not_ miraculously make him better. Zuko eased himself off the barstool and immediately the room tilted. He squinted, confused as to why the ceiling and the wall were trading places when he suddenly fell backward into something warm.

Sokka caught Zuko by the arms as he tipped backward. “Okay. I should’ve cut you off sooner, huh?”

Zuko scoffed. “S’fine. M’fine.”

“Sure, buddy. Let’s get you upstairs.”

Zuko was impressed at how good he was at doing stairs. He only tripped twice, and Sokka caught him both times. He could hear Sokka rambling or scolding him – he wasn’t really paying attention. He was too focused at how amazing he was at Drunk Stairs.

Sokka steered Zuko toward the master bedroom, and Zuko immediately collapsed onto the bed. Sokka turned to leave, and hesitated.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “At least take your shoes off.”

Zuko grumbled and half-heartedly tried to kick off his shoes before giving up. The room was very much spinning, and this was a ride Zuko very much wanted to get off, please.

Sokka sighed and came back over to the edge of the bed, pulling Zuko’s shoes off for him and making him actually get under the covers. “Now go to sleep,” he said. Sokka had just started to step away when Zuko caught his arm.

“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“What?”

“ _Stay_ ,” Zuko said, more insistent this time. He tightened his grip on Sokka’s arm. “Please.” The word came out almost like a whine.

“You’re drunk.”

Zuko pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes in concentration as he seriously considered that statement. “Yes.”

Sokka shook his head. “I’ll be right down the hall, okay?”

Zuko pouted.

“The other room has lofted beds, Zuko. I’m pretty sure we’d _definitely_ have to go to the hospital if you tried to sleep on one.”

“Mmkay,” Zuko’s head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Something in his gut screamed for him to fight harder to get Sokka to stay. His body ached for Sokka’s touch, to feel his body heat nearby. To breathe in that scent that reminded him of crisp mountain air on a late fall morning. But he was just so tired – the fight melted out of him and he let go of Sokka’s arm, and in turn, let go of his consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just really love drunken midnight playground escapades okay  
> also -- ~consent is important~


	13. Chapter 13

_Sokka_

Sokka could practically _feel_ Katara’s disapproval through the phone. It wasn’t difficult – she made it pretty clear how she felt about the whole thing.

“So let me get this straight,” she said, switching into that Rational Tone she always used when she thought he was doing something exceptionally stupid. “You’re staying in Dad’s cabin with a guy you know nothing about except that he’s caused you to get in not one but _two_ car crashes?”

“Yeah that pretty much covers it!” Sokka said cheerily, mainly to annoy her. He’d conveniently left out the part about breaking and entering, stealing a car, and – oh, yeah – almost getting killed by Zuko’s violently unhinged sister. He felt all that was really just a need-to-know basis.

“I don’t exactly trust this guy’s judgment,” she said.

“Yeah, but you trust mine, right?”

There was no answer on the other line.

“Katara?”

“Well…” she said finally.

“Hey, I’ve got great judgment! I could out-judge your judgment any day.”

“Doubtful.” She paused. “How long are you going to be?”

“I don’t know,” Sokka said, balancing the phone on his shoulder as he dug around in the freezer for any unexpired food. “A few days, maybe. Think of it like I’m on a vacation!”

He could almost hear her roll her eyes. “Fine.”

“But, uh. Do me a favor?” He asked. He found a package of bacon in the freezer that was still good. Score. “If anyone comes to the door and asks where we are, don’t tell them.”

“What? Why would someone ask—“

“Whoops, gotta go, love you bye!” He cut her off, dropping the phone into his hand. He heard her yell _Sokka, what are you not—_ before he ended the call. Sokka shot her a text saying “everything’s fine, don’t worry” with a gratuitous amount of emojis.

She sent back a “this isn’t over” with the red angry face emoji, and Sokka locked his phone screen and shoved it into his pocket. He’d deal with Katara’s scolding later. Right now, he had breakfast to make.

He had just thrown the now-thawed bacon into the frying pan, rejoicing in the fantastic sizzling sound it made, when he heard Zuko pad into the kitchen.

“Mornin’, sunshine!” He said, throwing Zuko a wide smile over this shoulder before tending to the stove.

Zuko squinted at him, blinking through his hangover fog like he was looking directly into the sun. “It’s one in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, I figured you could use the sleep.” He flipped the bacon, and again that sizzle – he swore if you could eat sounds, this one would be _delicious_. “How’s the arm?”

“Mm. It’s okay,” Zuko said, rolling out that shoulder a few times to test it out. “Doesn’t feel any worse than yesterday.”

“That’s good, at least. There’s some Advil or something under the sink, I’m sure. I can grab you some but you gotta eat something first.”

After a few minutes, Sokka had whipped up two plates of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon. He proudly slid a plate over to Zuko. “It’s not much, but it’s all we had in the freezer. Sorry if the toast is a little dry because of that.”

Zuko looked skeptically down at the eggs.

“Oh! Nah those are fresh don’t worry.”

“Where, uh. Where did you get them?” Zuko said, side-eyeing the plate. “They’re not, y’know,” he dropped his voice down to a whisper as though he were about to say something incredibly scandalous, “ _turtleduck eggs_?”

Sokka threw up his hands. “What! No!” Sokka hadn’t even thought of looking for eggs in the wild. He didn’t personally have a problem with it, but Zuko clearly did, so in hindsight he’s really glad he didn’t. “There’s a farmhouse a ways down the road, I stole these out of the chickengoose coop.”

“You _stole_ eggs.”

“Like a weaselfox!” He took a huge bite of eggs and bacon, together, and mumbled through the food in his mouth, “like you didn’t just steal a car.”

Zuko tried to cover his laugh with his hand. “Hey, so did you.”

He shrugged. “There are worse crimes.” _Like leaving you to face your sister alone when you needed me to stay, no matter how hard you insisted otherwise. Like leaving when you asked me to stay last night._ He wasn’t sure how much Zuko remembered about that. He was pretty drunk last night.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. Sokka fussed over Zuko’s bandage, and Zuko fussed over Blue Spirit. While Zuko tinkered with the Jeep, Sokka took the bike stored out back to go grab them some actual groceries down the road.

In the afternoon, Zuko napped off and on, getting up every time the sun shifted out of reach and moving so he could curl up in a sunbeam again. It was freakin’ adorable, Sokka thought. Like a very large, very angsty cat.

Sokka didn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembered was lounging on the well-worn couch, watching both the sun set through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, and Zuko breathing softly as he dozed in the corner. He remembered wanting so bad to be over there with him, to hold him and nap in the sun, but he wasn’t sure how to bridge that gap.

He kicked himself for the missed opportunity last night. Sokka knew deep down it was the right thing to leave, but he couldn’t help but feel he’d shut a door he didn’t really even know was open. There were two outcomes – either Zuko didn’t remember asking him to stay, and didn’t really want it … or he _did_ remember it, and remembered Sokka’s rejection.

Either way, the door was shut, and they’d eventually leave this cabin as nothing more than accomplices in a crime that went awry.

It took him a moment to realize what woke him up. The sound of soft, gentle music drifted in through the open window like a cool breeze. He blinked and realized night had fallen. The moon shone brightly through the plate-glass windows. Sokka stretched as he sat up and looked around, only to see that Zuko was nowhere to be found.

More strumming caught his attention, coming from outside. Sokka stood and padded up the stairs, slipping out the front door quietly and stepping barefoot into the grass.

Zuko was sitting on the roof of Blue Spirit, one leg tucked up under him and the other dangling over the driver’s side. He was balancing a guitar in the crease of his hip, and a somber and peaceful melody rose from the strings. The sight stopped Sokka cold. He looked at Zuko in awe, silhouetted there under so many stars.

He felt suddenly pulled forward by an unseen force, and stepped closer. Zuko instantly stopped playing, and the absence of the sound felt like a raw emptiness in Sokka’s heart.

Zuko turned with a panicked look on his face. “I-I’m sorry, I—“

Sokka realized it was his mother’s guitar. _Oh_.

“I just…” Zuko rubbed the back of his neck in shame.

“It’s okay,” Sokka said, stepping up to the side of the Jeep. “Can I—?”

Zuko nodded, holding out his good arm to help Sokka climb up the side of the Jeep onto the roof. They sat there together for a moment, their shoulders almost brushing, in silence but surrounded by the sounds of the forest. The late-summer cicadahoppers thrummed, and Sokka was grateful for the noise. Otherwise, he was certain Zuko would hear his heart, which he was suddenly aware was beating very hard in his chest.

Sokka broke the silence first.

“It’s just… nice to hear her guitar get played again, y’know?”

Zuko just stared down at his hands, unconvinced.

“Really,” Sokka said, nudging Zuko’s good shoulder with his own. “I like what you were playing. It sounded nice.”

“Thanks,” Zuko mumbled. “I’m—“

“Dude, if you say you’re sorry again I’m gonna shove you off the roof.”

“S—“ he caught himself. “I _apologize_.”

Sokka laughed and shoved him a little playfully before lying back on the Jeep’s roof to marvel at the stars. Out here, away from the suburbs, you could see so many constellations. “Hey, you take any requests?”

“Sure.”

Sokka thought for a moment, then snickered. “Play ‘Freebird.’” Zuko’s face scrunched up like he’d tasted something bad. “No, wait!” Sokka struggled to say through his laughs, “Wonderwall!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Zuko laughed, lying back so he was pressed next to Sokka. The roof was just barely wide enough for both of them to lie side-by-side, with their arms touching. Zuko had the guitar balanced on his torso.

He started strumming absently, a tune Sokka didn’t recognize. He had a feeling Zuko was just making it up as he went along, getting a feel for the strings. He gazed over at Zuko, who had closed his eyes in a kind of peaceful focus while he played.

Sokka lost track of how long he’d been looking at Zuko, tracing his eyes along the bridge of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, the rough line where his scar faded into his cheek. Their arms were already touching – the brush of skin on skin sending electricity tingling through his bones and a heat slowly curling up under his ribs – but he still wanted so badly to be closer to him.

“I wanted to thank you,” Sokka said softly. The words just tumbled out of him.

“Hm?” Zuko turned his head, opening his eyes to meet Sokka’s gaze. “For what?”

“For not pitying me when I told you about what happened to my mom. Everyone always says they’re sorry and gives me _that look_.”

Zuko hummed in agreement and nodded. “I know the one.”

Sokka rolled onto his side to face Zuko, crooking an elbow under his head to better look at him. He smiled. “It really is nice hearing you play.”

Zuko smiled back – a soft, genuine, heartfelt smile. It looked so perfect on his face, Sokka felt like his heart could burst.

“I think I have a song for you.” Zuko pushed himself up, cradling the guitar close to his body, and began to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's not mentioned here, but one of the reasons Sokka can't play this guitar is because he's left-handed, and this guitar (and Kya, respectively) are right-handed.  
> I'm a sucker for left-handed Sokka


	14. Chapter 14

_ Zuko _

Zuko never played the guitar in front of anyone. Just the thought of doing so sent a nervous heat into his hands, making his wrists shake and his fingers clumsy over the chords.

But there was something different about this moment. It felt calm, quiet. Zuko felt at peace. And so the music flowed easily from his fingertips, and the words fell from his lips.

“ _I know you're gone, I know you're gone  
But I don't feel what I know…_

He stared down at his fingers, focusing on his breath, on the words, on the chords. _  
_

_“I miss you so, I miss you so  
But my fears will fade, I know  
'Cause it's my heart that you helped to build  
And love is my compass still  
Love will fill the holes I've got  
'Cause you will never hold me  
But I know that you are with me, I know that you have peace…_

He repeated the next chord an extra time as he gathered himself. Zuko’s breath was shaky as the words caught in his throat. His heart felt heavy in his chest.

“ _From the day that I met you I stopped feeling afraid_

_In your arms I feel safe, in your arms—“_

He heard Sokka suck in a shuddering breath. Zuko lifted his head to look at him, his fingers falling away from the guitar to let the last note fade in the air. Sokka’s eyes were brimming with tears, and he was looking at Zuko in a way that made his heart clench. Sokka looked awe-struck, overcome with emotion. Zuko felt his own tears sting at his eyes.

“That’s beautiful,” Sokka whispered so softly Zuko wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it or not. Sokka reached out hesitantly, and when he saw Zuko didn’t lean away, he brought his hand up to rest against Zuko’s scarred cheek and gently wiped away the tears that had started to settle there. “You’re beautiful.”

The words have Zuko falling apart, his walls crashing down around him. Zuko leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and taking a long, steadying breath. Sokka smelled like leather and pine; it was safe, comforting, grounding. He tucked his hand in the nape of Sokka’s neck, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. He felt like he was teetering on the edge of something, some moment or realization he’d long shoved down and ignored.

Somehow, Sokka had him feeling both grounded and weightless. Both anxious, and courageous.

Both lost, and found.

“Hey,” Sokka whispered.

Zuko slowly opened his eyes, pulling his head back a little so he could see Sokka. Sokka just gazed at him, cradling Zuko’s cheek in his palm, like he was searching for something. They were close, so close Zuko couldn’t tell Sokka’s heat from his own.

“Gold eyes,” Sokka murmured in awe, the words seeming to come from a place of pure, subconscious honesty. He slid his hand down Zuko’s throat to rest on his chest. “And a heart to match.”

Zuko didn’t have a word for the expression on Sokka’s face. But he didn’t need one. The words alone were his undoing – the simple, poetic phrase tipped him past the edge of contradiction; he now felt only weightless, only courageous, only found.

Zuko pulled Sokka closer, and the other boy closed the gap. Their lips slid together, a little clumsily at first in their urgency, but they quickly found a rhythm. Sokka sighed into Zuko’s mouth, and Zuko wanted nothing more but to get closer, but the guitar was in the way. He broke the kiss, mumbling a quick “hang on, hang on,” when Sokka all but whined in disappointment when he pulled away.

Zuko gently lowered the guitar down, hanging the strap on Spirit’s driver’s mirror. He had barely straightened back up before Sokka wrapped his arms around Zuko’s torso and pulled him into another, much rougher and more desperate kiss.

Sokka leaned back, laying back on the Jeep’s roof and pulling Zuko down nearly on top of him. As Sokka slid his tongue past Zuko’s teeth, Zuko slid a hand up under Sokka’s tank top, brushing his fingertips lightly up his side. Sokka shivered, his teeth grazing Zuko’s lip. Zuko moaned, bracing his left hand flat against the roof as he broke away from Sokka’s mouth to catch his breath. He nuzzled into the spot behind Sokka’s ear and just hung there for a moment.

But Sokka was impatient. He nipped at Zuko’s jaw, then slid his hands down to grip Zuko’s hipbones, tucking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers. Zuko gasped and couldn’t help but grind down into Sokka’s hip. He wasn’t sure if the moan came from him, or Sokka.

“Do that again,” Zuko panted.

“Which part?” Sokka asked. But he didn’t wait for Zuko to catch his breath. He dug his thumbs into the soft divot just past Zuko’s hipbones and squeezed. “This?” Zuko rolled his hips again with a gasp, but shook his head. “So _this_ , then.” Sokka let his teeth graze Zuko’s jaw.

“ _Yes_.”

Sokka shoved his hands under Zuko’s shirt and dragged his nails up his back as he sank his teeth into Zuko’s neck.

“Fuck, that’s so good. You’re so good,” he rambled in Sokka’s ear, nibbling at his earlobe. He lost any ability to form more words when Sokka started roughly sucking a series of bruises just above his collarbone, moving from spot to spot with a scrape of his teeth.

Zuko almost whimpered when Sokka suddenly stopped, growing still beneath him.

“Um, Zuko.”

“Mhm,” Zuko reluctantly mumbled, dropping a line of kisses along Sokka’s jaw to the corner of his lips.

“Zuko,” Sokka gasped, struggling to focus. “I think you’re melting the roof.”

Zuko jerked back, eyes widening in shock, and sure enough, his left palm had started to sink into Spirit’s roof. He yanked his arm away, and a deep hand-shaped imprint was left behind in the plastic. _How am I gonna explain_ that _one to Toph?_

Sokka busted out laughing, rolling over to slot his own hand in the handprint before laughing even harder.

Zuko couldn’t help but crack a smile, a blush creeping up his neck and into his face.

Sokka’s laughs fell off into a sigh and he tangled a hand into Zuko’s hair and returned the smile. “Spirits, you’re pretty.”

Zuko’s blush deepened and he chewed his bottom lip as he gazed at Sokka. “So are you.”

“Hey,” Sokka suddenly said, grinning even wider. “You wanna get out of here?”

The sheer ridiculousness of Sokka using a pickup line about an hour too late threw Zuko into a laughing fit. He shook his head and leaned forward to plant another kiss on Sokka’s lips.

“Where’d you have in mind?”

///

Apparently, the place Sokka had in mind was _not_ what Zuko was expecting. He was expecting the couch, the bed, heck even the backseat of the Jeep. After the playground adventure of last night, he should’ve known better.

Sokka grabbed Zuko by the wrist and exuberantly led him through the woods until they reached the edge of a wide, slow-moving river.

“I figured you needed to _cool off_ ,” Sokka said slyly. “And besides,” his voice dropped low and he stepped forward to grab Zuko’s hips and pull him close. “How come you got to see me shirtless almost _all_ of last night, and still haven’t returned the favor?” He rumbled the last part of that sentence into Zuko’s ear, his breath making the heat rise up his neck again.

Zuko obliged, tugging at his shirt and pulling it off over his head. He was only shirtless, but he felt more bare than he really was, standing under the moonlight. He could feel Sokka’s gaze linger over his scars, and his tattoos. Sokka brushed his fingertips along the curling dragon Zuko had twisting up his ribs, and over to the tattoo of a white lotus pai sho tile he’d gotten over his heart. There was something about getting his ink that was freeing to him – they were marks he’d chosen to bear, not ones he was forced to.

The moment of vulnerability was – thankfully – shattered when a wicked grin suddenly split across Sokka’s face, and he gripped Zuko’s shoulders.

“Don’t you—“ Zuko’s stern warning was cut off as Sokka threw him into the river.

He gasped when he hit the water, which was surprisingly deep, and surprisingly cold for this time of year. He rose to stand in the silt of the riverbed, the water hitting him about halfway up his torso. “I’m still wearing jeans, you asshole!” Zuko shouted with a laugh.

Sokka still stood on the riverbank, laughing as he kicked out of his jeans and chucked his shirt over a tree branch.

“Well you shouldn’t’ve been!”

“Help me get out,” Zuko said, mustering up the best innocent face he could and reaching out an arm toward Sokka. “Please? It’s cold.”

“Like I’m gonna fall for that one.” Sokka snorted, crossing his arms and raising his chin in defiance.

“No, really. My arm hurts,” Zuko winced.

Shock unfolded on Sokka’s face. “Oh! Right, I’m so sorry, I totally forgot, I—“ he leaned down and took Zuko’s hand. Mistake.

It was Zuko’s turn to throw Sokka in the water. He pulled hard on Sokka’s arm, launching him face-first into the river.

Sokka surfaced to Zuko absolutely _losing_ it. Head tipped back in raucous laughter. The sound made Sokka feel lighter than air. He skimmed the edge of his hand across the surface, kicking up a huge wave that splashed Zuko right back.

“ _Hey_!” Zuko spat out a mouthful of water. _River_ water.

“ _Ha!_ Waterbending!”

Zuko just shook his head like a wet dog in response, water flying off the tips of his hair. Sokka threw up his arms to shield himself from the droplets with a laugh.

“C’mere,” Zuko said, wading over so he could wrap his arms around Sokka and draw him in for a kiss. Zuko leaned back, cradling Sokka against his chest and they floated that way for a little while.

The only light to guide them was the spattering of stars through the gaps in the tree branches overhead. They both stared up at them, lost together in the moment. Sokka tucked his head underneath Zuko’s chin, and Zuko reveled in the stillness.

Zuko didn’t want this night to end, ever. He got the feeling Sokka didn’t either.

“I know none of this was exactly planned,” Zuko murmured into Sokka’s hair. “But what do you think about staying here for a few days? If… if that’s okay.”

Sokka just tilted his head up to meet Zuko’s eyes and smiled. “I’d love that.”

He tipped Zuko’s chin down to meet him in another kiss, a much slower, deeper one this time, and the rest of the world slipped away from Zuko’s senses.

* * *

(listen to the song Zuko plays, [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9txfpUhG_bw))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song Zuko plays is "In Your Arms" by Chef'Special and it always makes me cry and stare helplessly at the ceiling, please give it a listen


	15. Epilogue

_Zuko_

The next few days were slow, and long, and still went by far too fast for Zuko’s liking.

When the sun was up, they dozed together in sunbeams, had cooking sessions that crumbled into riotous food fights, and suddenly every surface in the cabin was fair game for another heated make out session. Well, every surface that had a high melting point, at least. The last thing Zuko wanted to do was leave scorched handprints all over the walls, but it seemed like that was _exactly_ what Sokka was trying to do.

When the moon was up, the passion and fervor of the daytime slipped into something gentler. One night, they’d drifted in the river, clutching each other close. On another night, they took the roof off of the Jeep and curled up in the back, limbs tangled together and watching the stars. Zuko loved the stars; he also loved how Sokka knew all the constellations. He’d tucked his head onto Sokka’s chest and drifted off to sleep, listening to the rumble in Sokka’s chest as he detailed the warrior’s tales behind each spattering of stars in the sky.

Sleeping out in the open like that was a far cry from the months he’d holed up in Toph’s underground bunker, but he felt safer here than he’d ever had when he was hidden away.

Eventually, though, they’d started to run low on food, and Sokka’s phone was blowing up with texts from his sister. Oddly, Zuko thought, he hadn’t heard from Toph in a few days.

Not since he’d texted her to tell her they were lying low after a run-in with Azula. He and Sokka both agreed to check out Toph’s place first – after all, Sokka had to check in with her on repairing Boomerang … and discussing how much they still owed her after they destroyed the Corvette.

Not to mention Zuko was getting antsy with having Blue Spirit, a very recognizable car, out in the open like this. He needed Toph to earthbend her back underground for a while.

That anxiety accompanied Zuko for the entire drive back to Toph’s. He gripped the steering wheel tight and kept throwing glances in the rearview. Sokka placed a hand reassuringly on Zuko’s thigh, and he relaxed just a little. They navigated through back roads and off-road when they could until they finally reached Toph’s.

When they pulled onto the dirt driveway of Toph’s salvage yard, Zuko’s stomach dropped.

“Sokka.”

“Hang on, I have to find the perfect GIF to send Katara.” He was scrolling endlessly through his phone. The two had been texting back and forth for most of the drive, since Sokka had been radio-silent with her for days now.

“Sokka,” Zuko said, a little more insistently. When Sokka still didn’t look up, Zuko elbowed him in the arm.

“Ow, what—“ His words broke off when he saw what Zuko did. “Is that…”

“Yeah.”

Azula’s car – or at least, what was left of it – sat mangled out front of Toph’s house.

They both scrambled to unbuckle their seat belts and out of the Jeep. Zuko sidestepped slowly up the porch’s weathered stone steps, fire beginning to curl around of his fist. Zuko glanced over his shoulder just before he got to the door, and saw Sokka behind him, brandishing his boomerang in a raised arm.

“What exactly are you going to do with that?” Zuko hissed through his teeth.

“What are _you_ gonna do with _that_?” Sokka said, gesturing wildly at Zuko’s fistful of fire. “Burn her house down?”

Zuko shot an exasperated glare out of the corner of his eye at Sokka, but neither of them put away their weapons of choice. He nodded at Sokka, who stepped forward to flank Zuko’s left side and threw his shoulder against the door.

It slammed open and they both leapt inside, boomerang and fist raised, to an empty house. Zuko and Sokka split up, checking the rest of the rooms, and met back up in the kitchen. Azula wasn’t here, and neither was Toph.

“Uh, hey babe.”

Zuko whipped around, both startled by the casual use of a pet name _that totally hadn’t been used before_ , and by the fact that he instantly responded to it. But Sokka didn’t even seem to notice he’d thrown out a moniker like that. He was staring down at a half-melted lump of metal and plastic on the countertop.

“Is this… a gun?” Sokka said, poking at the warped hunk of what used to be Azula’s police-issued handgun.

“What’s left of one.”

Next to the gun was a melted puddle of brass with a knife stuck through it. It took Zuko a minute to realize it was Azula’s badge. It didn’t answer any questions for Zuko – if anything, it made him more scared. The anxiety clawed at his chest and bubbled up in his throat. He gripped the counter to steady himself as panic seeped into the edges of his consciousness. If Azula was this unhinged, and she was here, and now Toph is missing he—

Zuko fumbled to pull his phone out of his pocket and dial Toph. She answered on the first ring.

“Sparky!” She shouted exuberantly. The sheer confusion of that reaction shook Zuko out of his panic and into a more anxious bewilderment instead. He punched the speakerphone button so Sokka could hear. “I was wondering when you’d call. How was your honeymoon?”

“It wasn’t—“ he tried to say, but Sokka cut in.

“It was lovely.”

Zuko just frowned at Sokka, who seemed to revel in his annoyance. “Where are you?”

“Not sure,” Toph’s voice grew a little distant as she moved the phone away from her face. “Hey Azula, where are we?”

“You’re with Azula?” The panic started to creep in again. “Are you okay? Did she kidnap you?”

“First of all, how dare you think she could kidnap me. Second of all, while you two dum-dums were busy playing tonsil hockey, Azula is actually helping me get what I’m owed.”

Zuko and Sokka just exchanged a look, both of their faces reddening like they’d been caught sneaking around. Sokka just grinned sheepishly. There was no denying it now.

“Would you get your filthy gremlin feet off the dashboard,” Zuko heard Azula snarl, more of a demand than a question.

“Make me,” Toph shot back.

“Wait, what car are you in?” Zuko asked. Her behemoth of a Tahoe wasn’t street legal, and Azula’s car was currently scrap metal in the driveway.

“We took your other Jeep, Double Dragon or something? We might rename it. Azula says it’s ‘too edgy.’”

“It _is_ a bit dramatic,” Sokka threw in, unhelpfully.

Zuko just groaned. “Will you please just tell me where you’re going.”

“Vegas!”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, furrowing his brow. “Vegas.”

“She owes me, and we’ve got the perfect scheme to win some cash,” he could practically hear the mischievous, gleeful expression on her face. “We’ll come back after we get forcibly removed from every casino. After that, we’re going to Arizona. What better place to soul-search than the Grand Canyon?”

Azula’s voice cut in again. “For the last time, I don’t need any soul-searching,” she sounded tired. Zuko knew the feeling. It seemed like she’d finally met her match with Toph.

“Agree to disagree,” Toph said, brushing her off.

Azula didn't let it go. “You’re an insufferable, intolerable—“

“I’m _blind_ , not deaf. I can hear you.”

“If only you were mute,” Azula grumbled.

“Anyway, Sparky,” Toph continued, ignoring Azula’s fuming. “Your lovely sister came to my place looking for you, but it’s probably good you weren’t there. Turns out your jackass of a dad is looking for both of you. Azula had the right idea cutting ties and getting out of there. You probably should too.”

Toph abruptly ended the call, and Zuko just looked at Sokka with a baffled expression. “Guess we’re going on a road trip.”

Sokka didn’t even try to quell the smile forming on his face.

“Let me guess,” Zuko asked, rolling his eyes. “You know a place.”

Sokka’s smile just grew wider. “You ready to see some snow?” Sokka slid an arm around Zuko’s waist and pulled him close, tilting his face down so their noses almost brushed. “I’ve got some family in Alaska who would love to meet you.”

“Alaska?” Zuko breathed. “That’s at least five thousand miles away.”

“Five thousand miles of us, together,” Sokka murmured, dropping a kiss to Zuko’s cheek. “Five thousand miles of this,” he pressed another kiss to the corner of Zuko’s mouth. “Five thousand miles of stars.”

Zuko didn’t wait for him to finish. He grabbed the back of Sokka’s neck and pulled him into a deeper kiss. Sokka leaned into it, tightening his hold on Zuko’s waist and pressing their bodies together.

They broke the kiss to come up for air, but they stayed holding each other tight. Zuko pressed his forehead against Sokka’s. “Do you want to take the Bronco?”

“You’d sacrifice your Jeep honor for me?” Sokka teased. “Scandalous.”

Zuko buried his face into Sokka’s neck and laughed.

“Actually,” Sokka said, reaching into Zuko’s pocket and slowly pulling out his keys. He pressed his lips close to Zuko’s jaw. “I thought we could take your Jeep.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Sokka said, untangling himself from Zuko and grabbing him by the hand. “On one condition.”

Zuko just side-eyed him skeptically as they headed toward the door.

“I get to wave.”

Zuko tilted his head in consideration and bit his lip as he wrestled with a smile. “I could allow that.”

They climbed into Blue Spirit, Sokka in the driver’s seat this time. They were hardly prepared for a road trip of this caliber – the only things they had in the back were a few jackets, a half-eaten box of fire flakes, and the guitar that had changed everything.

But for once, the two of them seemed content with that; where they lacked a plan, they had trust in each other.

The Wrangler roared into life beneath them. They shared a soft smile as they twined their fingers together and set off into a new unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Azula says fuck the police
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Who knew that what started as a spark of very real rivalry with the unveiling of the new ford bronco would turn into this. But I'm glad it did. And I found a little room in my heart for the bronco. 
> 
> I'm going to step away from this fic's world for a while and work on a different one, but I wanted to leave this one a bit open-ended so I could come back to it. I'd love to one day write a sequel of the roadtrip to Alaska, as well as Azula and Toph take Vegas. If you read this far, you're amazing! Thank you for obliging me in my ATLA obsession, my shameless love for my Jeep, and this wonderful fandom. All of you get a wave! <3 OIIIIIIIO


End file.
